


The Book of McCormick

by Mesita



Category: South Park
Genre: Cougars, Heavy Language, Homophobia, Homophobic Slurs, Internalized Homophobia, Kenny POV, LDS, M/M, Mormon missionaries, Mormonism, Slow Burn, book of mormon - Freeform, church shenanigans, now with added kyle, religious triggers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-10-12 07:09:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17462945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mesita/pseuds/Mesita
Summary: Kenny McCormick embarks on a journey to become a Mormon Missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints for all the wrong reasons. And then he meets his missionary partner: Leopold Stotch.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I would say I'm going to hell for this, but Mormons don't believe in hell soooooooo.
> 
> This has been in my head for years since 'The Book of Mormon' came out on Broadway. I'm finally writing this just to say that I did. This is merely the prologue to gauge just how many awful people want me to continue this.

Of all the churches the McCormicks could have joined, it had to be the church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. 

Kenny suspected it might have had something to do with the fact that those happy bastards made it so the McCormicks didn’t have to do a thing. They offered to drive them to and from church, offered to have lessons at their home, and even offered up the services of the congregation for tasks Carol and Stuart McCormick were too wasted to bother with themselves, like cleaning up their home and lawn. Even the homeless people who camped near and around their home liked it when the church came by and offered their services. Mormons were truly a selfless lot, especially since the McCormicks couldn’t repay them at all.

And yet being Mormon was so damn difficult that most of the time it wasn’t worth the effort it took to pretend. Most of the time Stuart wasn’t on board, keeping his Pabst Blue Ribbon hidden only when he saw the missionaries hanging around. Carol refused to give up her coffee. They still hadn’t gone to the Temple in Denver to receive their endowments or get sealed. There was always some obstacle they claimed to need to overcome, though they had been baptized members for years. Kenny knew it for what it was: goddamn laziness and an inability to see far past the tip of their noses.

Because of the shortcomings of their parents, most of the duties of the religion fell on the children. Kevin, Kenny and Karen were forced to learn all the Primary songs, sit through baptisms and even lead some services in prayer. They didn’t seem to care that Kenny absolutely hated public speaking to the point that he would just mumble incoherently and sneak in a few sinful words here and there just to sate himself during Sacrament Meetings.

It wasn’t all awful. Gentle Karen seemed to take to the doctrine easily, joining the Young Women’s Choir and adhering strictly to the Words of Wisdom. She did her best to keep her family in line and even took part in the most difficult aspect of the church: tithing.

Karen gave up ten percent of her measly earnings the second she turned sixteen and began working at Baskin Robbins. As the only McCormick to tithe, she carried the entire family’s fate in her hands and if anything, it only added to the guilt that slowly ate away at Carol and Stuart who, after a deafening yelling match, managed to coerce their other two children into giving a one-time donation of their own money as “payment” for all the nice things the church did for them over the years. It was hypocrisy like that that made Kenny wonder why the church kept them at all.

After that incident, Kenny eagerly awaited his eighteenth birthday so that he could, once and for all, rid himself of the hold the church seemed to have on him. No amount of chili dinners and community events could make up for the time and energy it took to make it to church every Sunday and sit through three hours of repetitive Book of Mormon stories. He would be an adult, make his own decisions, and finally rid himself of the smiling, cornstarched fate. 

It was no secret that Kenny McCormick was anything but angelic. Some would say his heart was in the right place, and while that may have had something to do with growing up with the Doctrine and Covenants, there were so many aspects of the church he simply could not live with and no matter how much his parents tried to guilt him into staying, he would ultimately make the decision to leave.

Unfortunately, this meant he was stuck with the faith until then, which meant suffering through seminary. Whoever decided it was a good idea to have high school boys wake up at five in the morning for extra church during the school week had either a warped sense of humor or none at all. Really, Kenny would have run away from home or given up completely if it hadn’t been for one tiny problem: there was something to be said for the way all Mormons held secrets and in this case, the secret was in the form of one of the biggest taboos of the church: homosexuality.

Kenny knew he was pansexual from a young age. Just as he was opening up to the world of women and his father’s not-so-well-hidden magazines, his body opened up to the idea of men. No. People. Humans were sexual creatures, drawn to the act biologically. To Kenny, sex was an artform and people themselves were moving sculptures. That might have been part of the reason why, despite his inclination toward the more sinful pleasures in life, his chest contained a heart big enough to love anyone and everyone.

Leave it to his budding adolescent mind to confuse being nice with the need to gluestick it to religion.

The problem was that one of these walking artforms happened to be in his seminary class: Gary Harrison. Outspoken and kind, but with an unwavering devotion to Heavenly Father, Gary made seminary classes worth waking up before the sun. Kenny would watch him silently, hating himself that he couldn’t make a move. Though it wasn’t more than a crush, he let Gary crawl under his skin and nest there, feeding him such absurd ideas of what the future would be like if only more people were brought to the truth about the Gospel.

Gary had only one goal in mind after graduation. He’d been working toward it for most of his adolescent life: becoming a missionary.

Kenny didn’t want to think about it. He was done at eighteen. Had to be.

But the thought of possibly sharing a small apartment with Gary enticed him. Corrupted him in a way Kenny didn’t want to be corrupted. Where most guys his age were falling into the familiar rhythm of weed and video games, Kenny felt the pull of another tempter. 

So when the fated day arrived and Kenny turned eighteen, it was at the delight of his parents and his little sister that he join the ranks of the other missionaries.

Due to the nature of how forgiving the church was, Kenny was told that he could stop at any time. He’d been given multiple chances, with various Bishops and other church elders asking him if he was certain of his choice. He was asked so often that he wondered if they could see right through him—that he was in this for all the wrong reasons, that he was an abomination to the church.

It amused him, actually, knowing that he was inside the church for all the wrong reasons and that no one had enough of a stick up their ass to call him out on it. They were so desperate for the numbers that maybe they thought Kenny would be a valuable asset. Maybe he brought something youthful and new to the table. He wasn’t a bad looking kid so maybe they thought he would bring the Holy Spirit to young women and strengthen their numbers. Whatever the cause, a few months into becoming legal, Kenny found himself, Gary, and a few other boys from their hometown on a bus to Denver, awaiting one of the members of the Chorum of the Seventy to give them their assignments.

They were already required to wear their uniform: a starched and ironed white dress shirt with black slacks and a tie. The belt cut uncomfortably into Kenny’s sides and he sighed, feeling naked without his trademark orange parka. He’d been forced to cut his blond locks shorter. His hair hadn’t been long by any means, but he liked the shagginess. It made him feel like he could hide under his hair, but now he had no excuse. Anyone could see anything written directly across his face, naked and bare. The worst part of the uniform was the nametag, a simple black glossed pin that read “Elder McCormick.” It was the term ‘elder’ that bothered him. In order to become a missionary, Kenny had to undergo initiation into the Aaronic Priesthood which meant he could now baptize someone in the eyes of the church. This made him, at eighteen, an ‘elder.’ The title carried with it too much responsibility that Kenny knew he didn’t deserve. 

Already this was a mistake. Maybe he could hightail it out of there the next time some elder somewhere asked if he wanted out. Yes, that was the right course of action.

Kenny turned to Gary and nudged him with his shoulder. They were supposed to be listening as one of the Chorum, an old, white-haired dinosaur with hunched shoulders and a monotone voice, gave a speech about how important missionary work was to the church. It felt like a repeat of everything Kenny had already heard in the dozens of preparatory speeches other members of the church gave them. Still, Gary looked enthralled so that when Kenny nudged him, he gave Kenny the most forced smile Kenny had ever seen.

And it was still glorious. Stupid Gary and his stupid symmetrical face.

“Are you excited to start the newest chapter in our lives?” Gary whispered, probably thinking that this would convince Kenny to hold still and listen.

“Mm..” Kenny hummed in a way that very much indicated he was on the fence about this. Which he was. Indefinitely. “More like wondering if they received the request I sent in that we be paired up together.”

Gary was silent for a second and Kenny couldn’t tell if it was because he wanted to listen to the elder speaking or he was thinking, himself.

“Part of the lesson we learn as missionaries is to work with new people,” Gary said eventually. “We aren’t supposed to be paired with someone we know.”

Kenny stopped trying to watch Elder Dinosaur and turned to face Gary directly.

“You knew we would be separated?” he hissed. “Why tell me this now?”

“It won’t be so bad Elder McCormick,” Gary said, saying his name the way he was supposed to now that they were missionaries. It made a piece of Kenny’s guy twist horribly.

Two could play at that game. “I guess we’ll just have to see, Elder Harrison.”

Unlike Kenny, Gary seemed to preen at the new title. Kenny folded his arms and visibly slumped in his seat. Things were getting worse by the second. If Gary was going to act even more standoffish than when they were in school together, Kenny wasn’t sure if he wanted to be paired with him. Kenny hoped his partner wouldn’t be this stuck up.

Oh wait. They were all stuck up. Kenny surveyed the room through half-lidded eyes. There wasn’t a lot of diversity in Colorado, making most of the room look as pale as the snow that surrounded them. With every boy having a similar haircut and uniform, it only added to the cookie-cutter atmosphere. Even Gary looked less attractive against the backdrop of monotony.

Suddenly, the elder’s voice took on a different tone, and most of the missionaries sat up a little straighter. Kenny did too, but only because it seemed like something was about to happen.

“Again, President Nelson would like to thank all of you for your dedication to Heavenly Father and serving your brothers and sisters in Christ. Each of you will be given your assignment and the name of your partner. I personally would like to wish you luck on your mission and hope the Spirit moves and guides you on your journey. I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”

“Amen,” came the chorus of overwhelmingly male voices.

They were divided alphabetically and as Kenny became separated from Gary, he knew his request wouldn’t go through. He had been a fool, letting a crush get the better of him, trapping him in a world of white bread and plastic cheese. A rush of anger enveloped Kenny in that moment. He wasn’t going to let this get the better of him. He was going to get out of this and find a way to pay for college on his own. Maybe work at a fast food restaurant until he could get his feet on the ground. He wasn’t even getting paid for this he—

\--he stopped because he found himself in front of a table and needed to give the church member his name. The man handed him a manila envelope and sent him on his way.

That was it. Kenny’s whole life was changing and it all came down to some stupid yellow-ish folder.

He opened it with some amount of annoyance and skimmed through the papers.

The church could have sent him anywhere: France, Canada, Guam, Japan… Perhaps going to an exotic and foreign locale would be good for him. He could learn so much about the culture and sight-see. It would have made taking two years out of his life seem worth it if he at least got a good story out of it. Plenty of missionaries came home with stories and scholarships… Kenny could at least deal with it if something good came out of it… but…

Of course he wouldn’t be that lucky.

He was assigned to the middle of the stalest part of America.

Missouri.

And his partner’s name?

Leopold Stotch.

What kind of name was Leopold? He sounded like a pretentious goober who was going to come home to a brand new car and a full ride to whatever State College he wanted. Kenny hated him immediately.

He hated everything about this.

Being a missionary was going to suck balls.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to unspoken fanfiction rules I’m supposed to set this story in South Park? But like, you can’t be /from/ a place and also be a missionary in that place so this is taking place in the most boring locale imaginable. But also there’s South Park characters there because no one wants to read a story with a bunch of OCs. That’s not why we’re here, folks. IDK. I do what I want.
> 
> Also: This story is not beta'd or proofread. I have no friends or colleagues. I'm an internet hermit.

Kenny had never been the biggest fan of Colorado and the constant mountain backdrop, but he found himself immediately missing it and its stupid majestic wonder the second he arrived at Lambert International Airport in St. Louis, Missouri. There was nothing here. No mountains, no palm trees, no promise to meet big name celebrities or foreign movie stars. Just a mediocre airport in a mediocre town that looked like it could have been a carbon copy of any other airport in the Midwest.

How could Kenny have traveled for hours only to end up absolutely nowhere?

He was supposed to meet Brother and Sister Tweak at the airport. At some point Kenny figured he should stop making fun of people in his head based on their names alone, but the Tweaks were just asking for it. By the time he found them, he was utterly disappointed to see just how abysmally normal they were.

“Welcome, Elder McCormick!” Brother Tweak said spritely. His voice was nice. Too nice. Like the sound of someone pretending to use a phonograph but it’s really just voice editing software. Kenny did the right thing and shook his hand thinking that maybe he would be lucky and that was the only physical contact he’d have today. “Welcome to St. Louis. I’m in the bishopric for the Southern stake. 57th ward. This is the family.”

Sister Tweak looked on with a smile and before Kenny could greet her properly, she was stepping aside to introduce an unkempt young man. Mormons were big on family. Nearly their entire religion revolved around it. Kenny wasn’t very alarmed to see that they’d brought their son… but what startled him was that he was about Kenny’s age.

Brother Tweak put an arm around his son. “Tweek here wanted to go on a mission but we just don’t have the means for it, do we buddy?” He shook Tweek around a little to get his point across. The boy made a squeaking noise and seemed to curl in on himself even more. Kenny recognized the behavior. Overbearing parents were definitely a thing back home. “That’s why we’ve taken it upon ourselves to help out the stationed missionaries whenever possible. You should join us for family game night!”

Kenny tried to smile, and it worked, a little. It came out more like he smelled something unpleasant and forgot at the last minute he was trying to keep a straight face. He shook Tweek’s hand anyway. It was cold and clammy and Tweek immediately began to apologize. It was kind of cute, actually. Even though his first name sounded exactly like his last name which meant this was going to get infinitely confusing.

“Sounds great,” he said, instead.

The Tweaks were nice, easily answering any and all of Kenny’s questions as they made their way through the airport. By the time he picked up his small luggage from baggage claim he’d learned more than he wanted about the stake. They were smallest ward in the stake and shrinking every year. They used to share a meeting building with a neighboring town and alternated morning and afternoon services. However, due to the decreased number of people attending, they combined the wards and were currently experiencing some growing pains.

“It’s really an exciting time to be a missionary around here,” Brother Tweak urged. “We’re such a tightly knit family looking to expand our love to the entire metro area.”

That was a nice way of putting it. To Kenny, it sounded like no one wanted them anymore and they were slowly collapsing in on themselves. He had his work cut out for him, for sure, and he wasn’t even sure he wanted to do it.

With a heavy sigh, Kenny followed the Tweaks out to their car and was glad for the reprieve from Brother and Sister Tweak when he was stuffed into the backseat with Tweek.

That was, until Tweek did nothing but stare at him, wide-eyed, the entire trip.

Oh what Kenny wouldn’t give to grab his cell phone and tune everyone out, but that was another perk to this missionary thing: no cell phones. He’d had to live his at home. Locked. Turned off. Hidden.

“Relax, man,” Kenny said quietly, feeling like he was supposed to speak with elevated English all the time. He figured if he spoke like a normal human being to Tweek he would possibly blink for once in his life. Kenny would have had a staring contest with him if he wasn’t in the back of some religious dude’s car. “You can show me the uh… the fun side to Sacrament Meetings right? Back home we used to play basketball—”

“Basketball? Oh, jeez!” Tweek said, a little too loudly for Kenny’s tastes. “I can’t play basketball. They won’t even let me serve the Sacrament, let alone handle something as dangerous as a basketball!”

Kenny’s brow furrowed. “Why don’t they let yo---”

Tweek held his hand up, almost in Kenny’s face and Kenny could immediately see why. The kid couldn’t hold still. His fingers shook and twitched and when he pulled his hand away, his face was a bright red from embarrassment or annoyance, Kenny couldn’t tell which.

“Hey man, it’s cool. I’m sure there are a lot of other ways you can serve.” Kenny surprised himself with his own encouragement, even if he figured he was BSing his way through this.

“We all have gifts. When Heavenly Father chooses to reveal them is the real mystery,” Tweek said with all the gusto of someone who has had to repeat those words over and over to himself a million times. Kenny hadn’t known Brother Tweak for an hour yet and he could already tell the man had probably said those words to his son enough to emblazon them on his forehead in giant Mormon marker. Kenny liked them, actually. He was going to use that in the future and hope it made him sound wise and all-knowing.

“If it helps, I haven’t found my gift, yet,” Kenny pointed out with a reassuring smile. Anything to keep this guy from squeaking so suddenly again.

“But you’re –gah! -- good enough to be on a mission.”

Kenny shook his head slightly and chanced a glance up at the front of the car to make sure Brother and Sister Tweak weren’t listening in. They had the station set to satellite radio and were talking to each other about something food related. He leaned in and lowered his voice. “Between you and me, I’m not sure sure. I have uh… doubts. I was hoping a mission would solve that.”

That really wasn’t why he was on a mission but just in case the Tweaks happened to listen in, he figured it best to cover his own ass. Tweek, however, wrung his hands together, fingers dipping in and out of each other in a pattern that would have been mesmerizing to watch if someone recorded it and put it up on YouTube. 

“I… this…” Tweak fumbled through his words and ultimately gave up on them all together with a cry of, “This is too much pressure!” before finally falling silent and turning around to look out the window and decidedly not at Kenny.

Kenny wondered if he went too far. He’d only just met Tweek and there was no reason for him to let him in on that big of a secret. Then again, Tweek may be the only other person his age who wasn’t a missionary. It wasn’t like he was in the market for many peers, now. The days of high school were over. He could pretend he wasn’t part of the church back home, but now everyone had to treat him like they were walking on eggshells. What a great two years this would be.

The rest of the car ride was filled with the odd question or two from Brother Tweak about Kenny and what it was like in Colorado. Kenny answered with as few words as possible and wondered if the overwhelming and sickeningly sweet niceness was a trait Mormons had all over the world. Was it something they were born with? Clearly false converts couldn’t fill the cheerful quota.

Oh no. What if his mission brother would be just as cheerful?

Before Kenny could dwell on it too much, the Tweaks pulled up to a nondescript apartment building. It was a gray January day meaning no one in their right mind would be out and about. The grass remained the color of death, a recent snowfall having sapped it of anything residually green. It was a familiar sight which meant Kenny hated it. When Gary first began to talk about the joys of being a missionary, he made it seem like he would be going off on an adventure in some grand flat above a store somewhere in the heart of everything.

There was a gas station at the corner of the street, so that was about as good as it got.

“Home sweet home,” Brother Tweak said breathily, opening the door for Kenny to get out. “Elder Stotch arrived yesterday. I’m sure he’ll be excited to finally meet you.”

Kenny said nothing in response. He merely picked up his bag and slung his backpack over his shoulder as he got out of the car. All missionaries were advised to have a backpack to carry necessities as they made their way door to door, but they weren’t allowed to have many material possessions if at all. Kenny packed only some everyday toiletry items and a few changes of civilian clothing. Everything else would be provided by the ward.

Being a missionary was supposed to be a lesson in humility but Kenny was already used to living with next to nothing. The only difference now was that as a missionary he wasn’t seen as poor anymore, but blessed and humble. If anything, it would be a nice change from the poverty narrative he was used to.

Brother Tweak followed Kenny inside. It was probably his duty to make sure Kenny was well-acclimated. Once at the door, he handed over Kenny’s key and a small handwritten card. “A note of encouragement,” he said cheerfully, patting the note into Kenny’s hand with the key. 

It would have been weird if Kenny wasn’t so used to members of the church doing things like that. There was a woman in his congregation back home who would bake a loaf of bread for everyone’s birthday in the ward. Everyone. She baked nearly every day. A small handwritten note from a ward official was nothing in comparison.

Kenny just nodded and when he finally went to open the door, he could hear the rattling of various locks from the other side. Suddenly the door was thrown open to reveal a young man with shockingly blonde hair against similarly shockingly pale skin. The white of his missionary uniform blended in with his complexion, making it look like a floating tie had opened the door.

Elder Stotch.

“Why hello Brother Tweak!” he chirped so happily, Kenny wondered if he were waiting just at the other side of the door until he could hear them come in. He reached forward to shake Brother Tweak’s hand before turning his hand toward Kenny.

“And you must be Elder McCormick! Oh I’ve just been so tickled to meet you!” When Elder Stotch shook Kenny’s hand, he held onto it with both of his own, shaking vehemently until Kenny could feel his elbow rattle.

“Uh, hey,” was all Kenny could say. Even if it was a bit mumbled.

“I’ll let you two get acquainted, then. You call me if you need anything,” Brother Tweak said, already stepping to the side.

Elder Stotch let go of Kenny’s hand to reach into the front pocket of his white shirt and pulled out a small phone that was probably so obscure they didn’t even sell covers for it on Amazon. “Will do, Brother Tweak! We’ll be just fine. See you at church tomorrow!”

“See you at church, Elders. Sleep well!”

And then Brother Tweak was gone, leaving Kenny at the threshold of his apartment with an overly enthusiastic ghost.

Elder Stotch wasted no time in tugging Kenny inside and shutting the door. Kenny noted that Elder Stotch didn’t just turn the deadbolt, but there were at least two other mechanical locks he made sure to use before he turned to Kenny, the smile never having left his face. Just how dangerous was this town that they had to lock their doors? It wasn’t like they had anything of value to even steal.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re here. It’s been so quiet around here when it’s just me. I can only play solitaire so much before my eyes start to cross. But it’s okay. I’m used to being alone in my room back home. It’s not much different. Only now I have a buddy!”

“Yeah, that’s---”

“Can I get you something to eat? We don’t have much, yet. The bishopric keeps this place stocked pretty okay from the storehouse but we’re supposed to use those kinds of things for the needy and not for us. But there’s cereal. Do you like Frosted Flakes? Oh… well, it looks like they’re not frosted. Just regular corn flakes. But they should still be good.”

“No, it’s okay, I—”

“Oh how silly of me. I should have given you a tour first! You’ll want to put away your stuff. Follow me.”

Kenny’s head spun as Elder Stotch stopped talking only long enough to push past Kenny and disappear to a small hallway on the other side of the living room. Kenny hadn’t had the chance to really look around yet, but there wasn’t very much to look at, if at all. They had a large living room, but only because part of it opened up into a kitchen. One entire wall was dedicated to a fridge, stove, and counterspace with only a small amount of tile to signify that this was the kitchen. The rest of the room was carpeted to show a living space. On the opposite end of the room, it opened up into a small hallway.

With a sigh, Kenny followed Elder Stotch toward this hallway to where it opened up into three rooms: two bedrooms and a bathroom. 

“This one’s mine,” Elder Stotch pointed to the one on the right. “They’re pretty much the exact same, but the morning sun shines through my window. I hope you don’t mind. I like waking up with the sun.”

Kenny shrugged. It didn’t much matter to him. He turned to the room on the left and made his way inside. There was nothing in there except for a bed, a side table, a dresser, and a lamp. 

It was glorious.

And clean.

And his.

At home he had to share a room with Kevin, but here, he had privacy, clean sheets, and a fresh dresser. The room smelled like absolutely nothing which was phenomenal. After all the minor annoyances he’d faced since he made the decision to become a missionary, this, to him, was payment. He had a small alcove to call his own.

He forgot all about his mission partner as he set his bag down and began to unpack, putting the meager amount of clothing he owned into the dresser and taking out his bag of toiletries to place into the bathroom. When he turned around, Elder Stotch was still at the door, smiling wide like he had no idea how to make the facial expression go away. 

“You really didn’t bring much of anything with you, did you,” he said with a giggle. “I know we weren’t supposed to, but I brought along a comfort item or two, you know, to remind me of home.”

Kenny gave Elder Stotch a weak smile. He didn’t know what else to say to that. Elder Stotch, it seemed, didn’t know either. With a sigh, he leaned against the doorframe.

“You don’t talk very much do ya, buddy?”

Kenny opened his mouth to respond, then closed it, then opened it again. “I haven’t had the chance. You do all the talking for me.”

“Oh do I? I’m sorry. I’m just so excited.”

“I can tell,” Kenny said. He wasn’t sure what to think of Elder Stotch just yet. He was talkative, overexcited, and kind of goofy looking. Kenny really hoped none of those qualities would start to get on his nerves.

His tone must have been closed off because Elder Stotch sort of shrank in on himself, pressing his hands together awkwardly. “Oh, well, I suppose I’ll just go back to playing cards in the living room and… let you unpack.”

Kenny felt a little guilty at that. He didn’t want his bad mood about the mission in general to seep in on his first day. He was going to be spending a lot of time with Elder Stotch in the interim. It was probably a good idea to be a little more chill with him. 

After the other missionary left the room, Kenny finished emptying his bag and dropped off his toiletries to the bathroom before going to the living room to check on his partner.

Elder Stotch was sitting on the couch staring at a card in his hand, flipping it back and forth between his thumb and forefinger. Kenny watched him for a moment before sighing and moving to sit on a chair opposite. The room was as sparsely furnished as the rest of the house and it wasn’t until Kenny made a thorough sweep that he realized what exactly was missing.

They had no television.

The reality of what his life was going to be like for the next two years began to dawn on him. No television. No internet. No phone. Nothing but the scriptures and the church. He wished he could get that feeling of relief he had when he first saw his bedroom. This was going to be way harder than he thought. No wonder Elder Stotch had talked his ear off the moment he walked in.

“Hey, sorry about that. It was a long flight,” Kenny said quietly, hoping he hadn’t made the worst first impression.

Elder Stotch perked up, but Kenny could tell from the way he clenched his jaw that he was trying to hide it. “That’s okay. I’ve been told I come on a little strong.”

“No, no, man, I get it,” Kenny said, holding up his hands. “There’s not even a TV in here, dude. I can’t blame ya. I’m just not a big talker.”

“That’s all missionary work is, silly. Talking.”

“Yeah,” Kenny sighed. “I’m starting to wonder why I thought I could do this.”

Elder Stotch just laughed. “Everybody’s nervous. I can do all the talking for you if you want.”

“You’d do that for me, Elder Stotch?” Kenny asked. They basically had to memorize a couple of different scripts so there would be no confusion on what needed to be said, but if Kenny didn’t have to do that part, he’d be grateful.

Elder Stotch flinched. “Ugh, that’s gonna take some getting used to. It sounds like I’m my dad. You don’t have to call me that.”

“Oh, uh…” Kenny fumbled, trying to remember the name on his paperwork. It had been a really weird name. Leonard? No. “Leopold?”

His mission partner winced again. “No, uh, see people back home just called me Butters. You can just call me that. It makes me feel like myself.”

Kenny could understand that. After being forced into a uniform and a haircut, he felt like he had been stripped of his identity a little bit, too. “I can call you Butters. No problem.” He’d just have to remember to shift into Elder Stotch in public, but it shouldn’t be too hard. Growing up as poor as Kenny did meant he had to learn to style shift as a necessity. “Why Butters though?”

Butters shrugged. “It’s just… always been Butters. What about you? Kenneth?”

“Kenny.”

“Kenny….” Butters echoed, trying it out. “Yeah, that’s so much better. I really feel like we can be friends, now, you know? No elders. Just us.”

Kenny let himself smile. Ever since he left Colorado, he’d been nothing but Elder McCormick. Hearing his own name gave Kenny the sense that there was a part of him that not even the church could hide. Any annoying impression Butters gave him when he first arrived was immediately forgotten. His missionary partner was just another kid like him, worried about this change in his life. Kenny just hoped he could be more and more of himself around him because this goody two shoe missionary life was stifling. There were only so many times he could withhold the word fuck before he imploded.

“You wanna play some cards, Kenny?”

Well, what else was he going to do?


	3. Chapter 3

Working with Butters wasn’t so bad. Sure, it was boring at first, but there were many times in which Kenny’s power or gas had been shut off at home which was good practice for not having television or internet. They had a phone, but it was strictly for missionary business. Kenny would bet his left nut that someone somewhere was likely monitoring any and all phone activity.

Oh, who was Kenny kidding? It was awful, but Butters was so damn adorable that he made it tolerable. The downside was that he dove head first into the doctrine and sometimes it was hard to get him to talk about anything else. If Kenny so much as tried to change the subject while they were out visiting homes and spreading the word, Butters would stutter and redirect them back to the topic at hand.

Mostly the two of them saw doors open and close in their faces. Fan-fucking-tastic.

It hurt the first few times, but Kenny was made of thicker stuff. He knew he would have reacted the same way. He’d become one of the most annoying things on the planet. Great.

Sometimes they could see people peer at them from their windows and refuse to answer their door. It was during those times that Butters would smile and wave at them and leave a pamphlet for them to peruse—mostly inviting them to the local ward for service and fellowship. All Kenny wanted to do was flip them the bird.

“They’ll come around,” Butters would say. “The Holy Spirit just has a hard time getting through to them on account of all the sex in the media.”

“Mmhmm,” Kenny would agree with a hidden smirk. “That’s what’s doing it.”

On the rare occasion someone would feel the spirit and invite them in, it was Butters who took the initiative, falling into the scripted doctrine easily. That was probably a good idea.

“Well you see, the Plan of Salvation sees to it that you don’t have to worry about hell. Isn’t that great? Hell was made up by man as a scare tactic. Even the lowest heavenly kingdom is pretty good, but the difference is that you are further from the light. In terms of light, think of it as the sun, the moon and the stars. The Celestial Kingdom is the sun, the Terrestrial Kingdom is like the moon and the Telestial Kingdom is the stars.”

The mother who let them in, sat bouncing an infant on her lap and gave them an incredulous look. “So, Hitler is in this Telestial kingdom, having a good time and sipping martinis?”

“There’s no alcohol in heaven, ma’am.”

The look on this obvious wine mom’s face made it very difficult for Kenny to keep a straight face, but he tried. Oh, did he try. “There is an alternative for the worst souls,” Kenny interjected, making a motion to cover up the image of the kingdoms on the poster board they’d brought with them. “Satan doesn’t have a body. That was his punishment for rebelling. He and his followers are an invisible force, whispering into our minds every day to sin. If we follow those choices, we will lose our bodies after the Final Judgement and become nothing, floating in darkness.” See? He could do it!

“Noted,” the mother said, face pale.

Butters perked up. “That’s why we should always Choose the Right! Don’t you want to be in eternal paradise? You get to spend it with your family?”

“You mean like my mother?”

“Yes! Families will be together forever.”

That was the last straw. The woman shook her head. “No thank you. Not with my mom. I don’t think this is for me.”

Butters’ face fell. “But--!”

Kenny placed a hand on Butters’ knee, patting it gently. “It is not our place to judge. She doesn’t feel the spirit.”

It was not in Butters’ nature to give up and he looked more determined than ever, his brow furrowing. “What about your children? Don’t you want to be with them forever?”

The mother looked at the child in her arms. The child took that moment to spit up all over herself. The mother’s face fell into one of annoyance. “I’ll think about it.”

Kenny could see it. They lost another sheep. He didn’t blame her. An eternal existence without alcohol didn’t sound like any existence he wanted for himself.

And yet, he still preferred it to eternal blackness.

He wasn’t sure what he believed.

Butters always felt the rejections harder than Kenny. It was Kenny who had to don the backpack filled with the Book of Mormon and their teaching supplies after something like this. Butters would give himself a few footsteps of complete sadness, the color falling from his eyes and the sunlight fading from his hair. 

And then, without fail, Butters would pick himself up by the time they reached the next door.

“We’ll save one, Kenny, I know we will!”

Buttes looked so hopeful Kenny wanted to believe him.

 

Kenny wouldn’t have minded the constant failures. He got to spend time with Butters who always smelled like shampoo and came up with fun games to play while they took public transportation everywhere. He even got Kenny playing ‘Yellow Car.’ But eventually the ward began to notice the slacking off.

“Elder McCormick and Elder Stotch, what can you tell me about these numbers?” Bishop Valmer leaned over his desk, tapping the printout in front of him. Kenny didn’t have to look at it to know there were nothing but zeroes.

“No one opens their door,” Kenny stated matter-of-factly.

“Then re-trace your steps. Come back at a different time. Heavenly Father wants his flock to return to him. You must be stronger shepherds.”

“I’m sorry, Bishop!” Butters apologized right away. Kenny slouched in his seat. “We give up too easily! We’ll make a stronger force! The two of us!”

And he grabbed Kenny’s hand in solidarity.

Butters’ hand was warm and smooth and sure. Kenny flicked his gaze down to look at the union. Something inside him changed, but he didn’t know what. It was like someone flipped a switch in a classroom but only half the fluorescent lights came on and you couldn’t tell whether the room was brighter or not.

He nodded to show his support.

Bishop Valmer surveyed them carefully with all the scrutiny of an eagle inspecting his nest. “It would be a shame to transfer either of you out, but if the numbers don’t pick up soon, we will need to shuffle some things around.”

Butters’ grip on Kenny’s hand tightened. Kenny squeezed back.

“Don’t worry, Bishop Valmer,” Kenny said with more conviction than he thought he had on the subject. “We’ll save a soul.”

“I have faith in you, brothers. Let’s end this session with a prayer.”

All three of them bowed their heads, but Kenny’s and Butters’ hands remained connected in a prayer all their own.

 

That night, in their apartment, Kenny set about trying to cook something for the two of them. They’d managed to procure some boxes of Star Wars themed Macaroni and Cheese—a veritable feast. He hummed as he worked. Butters was in the attached in the living room, reading the book of Alma for probably the thousandth time. Kenny read the entirety of the Book of Mormon exactly once and that was enough for him. Everything else seeped into his head from being repeated every Sunday for the last five years.

As he poured the finished cheesy concoction into two bowls and shoved the dirty pot into the sink, he chanced a look over at Butters, hand on his chin as he studied the texts intently.

“Hey,” Kenny said, breaking the silence.

He hadn’t thought he was that loud, but Butters jumped so suddenly and violently that Kenny bumped backward against the counter.

Butters shut the Book of Mormon and placed a hand over his heart, eyes closing as he very visibly counted to five. “Kenny, you scared me!”

“Was it really that interesting?”

“No. I mean yes. I mean, I just thought you were someone else is all.”

“There has been no one but us for two weeks, now. Who else could it be?”

Kenny could tell Butters didn’t want to explain it any further, which was fine. They’d managed to keep most of their personal lives a secret up until this point. When Butters didn’t talk about the scriptures, they would share stories of the church. Occasionally they would talk about their families. Or rather, Kenny would talk about his family, about Karen, about chili dinners and about Kevin leaving the church.

Butters didn’t talk about his parents much. Just that they were very important members of the church. His mother was the head of Primary and his father had been called to be in charge of temple work. Kenny got the feeling the subject was a sore spot for him.

“No one. Oh geez… you made dinner? I was so into reading I didn’t know. I should have helped, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s not a big deal, man.”

“I’ll wash the dishes.”

“I mean if you really wanna,” Kenny said with a shrug. He grabbed Butters’ bowl and made an effort to hand it to him, thinking that maybe it would be nice to eat on the couch for once but Butters stood up quickly. 

When Butters grabbed his bowl, he went to sit at the small table against the wall. “Don’t want to get anything on the carpet,” he said by way of explanation.

Kenny raised an eyebrow. “It’s okay, you know. We can just clean it up after. No one’s going to get in any trouble or anything.”

Butters was silent, like he was mulling the idea over in his head. Then he began to laugh a little. “Yeah… I guess you’re right.”

Kenny frowned. What had happened to this kid to make him so sensitive to things like this? The way he felt so guilty about not helping with dinner struck Kenny as odd. Butters had always been so supportive and helpful but he never let himself have one minute to relax unless he was in his bedroom asleep.

“Come on,” Kenny said, making up his mind and pulling Butters’ chair out from under the table. “Be a rebel. Eat on the couch with me.”

“But—”

“No buts.” Kenny was tired of long, strange silences and failed ‘getting-to-know-you’ sessions that really only ended in Kenny knowing nothing about Butters but his favorite color and animal. Useless.

With a reluctant sigh, Butters followed Kenny to the couch and picked up his legs to sit cross-legged near the arm, his bowl tucked safely to his chest to keep any spills from going far past his shirt. Kenny happily sat next to him in the center of the couch with his own bowl, casually shoveling Darth Vader shaped noodles into his mouth. 

Butters smiled.

“Well, hey, this ain’t so bad.”

“Yeah, imagine having a movie night with it. I can’t believe how many Marvel movies I’m going to miss while I’m doing this.”

“I’m going to marathon them when I get home.” Butters took a bite of his macaroni and cheese. Savored it. “This is good. My mom only ever made mac and cheese in a crockpot.”

Of course she did. Butters’ mom was likely a typical stay-at-home Mormon mother. It seemed like every mom in his congregation didn’t have to work for a living except his own.

“Welcome to the world of dinner-in-a-box. Have you ever had Hamburger Helper?”

Butters shook his head.

“Then you’re in for a treat, dude.”

Butters was so careful in the way he ate, like a cautious animal coming to a stream for a drink. Kenny ate with much less abandon. Food wasn’t a luxury to be wasted and when it was available, Kenny consumed it, no questions asked. Kenny didn’t realize he was watching Butters so intently until the other missionary looked up and caught him.

“Is there something on my face?” he asked, his eyes wide. “I don’t have a napkin. Oh hamburgers.”

“No,” Kenny said with a laugh. “No, you’re fine. I was just looking.”

“Oh…” The only reason Kenny could see the blush on the other boy’s cheeks was because he was so incredibly pale. Kenny remembered the way Butters held his hand in the Bishop’s office. How sure he was that they were a good match despite hardly knowing each other at all. Kenny was determined to change that. 

And then, suddenly, Butters gasped audibly, nearly dropping his bowl on the floor.

“Kenny we forgot to pray!”

Kenny’s eyes widened. Even though it didn’t matter much to him, it was so routinely engraved into his psyche that even he was surprised they’d forgotten it. He hadn’t realized it at the time, but he was so intent on getting Butters to come out of his strict-rules-shell, that he accidentally got Butters to relax more than he bargained for. The thought made him bubbly but he shoved that to the side.

“We’ll pray now. Thank Heavenly Father for the food we already had. Backlog it. He’ll understand.”

“Y-yeah…” Butters said, the relief evident in his face. He set his bowl down and folded his arms and bowed his head. “Dear Heavenly Father, thank you for this food…”

Butters continued on for a while, making sure it was understood that they’d made a transgression. His eyes were shut so tightly that Kenny didn’t feel bad at all for watching him pray. To Kenny, it was honorable how devout Butters was, but at the same time, something unnerved him the way the other missionary went about it. He didn’t seem to like anything he was doing. It was almost as if he were doing this because he was scared about the consequences of not doing it. His parents? The church?

To Kenny, they were in the same boat. Neither of them wanted to be there. That was probably the reason why they couldn’t get anyone to sign on or be baptized. People could smell their lack of authenticity.

When Butters ended the prayer, Kenny made sure to say “Amen” with him, and when Butters opened his eyes, Kenny didn’t bother to hide the fact that he had been staring at him.

They sat like that a while. Butters’ eyes were so blue… and he had a scar on his left eye. Kenny hadn’t noticed it before. His features were so soft, so delicate. The minute amount of change he’d experienced in the Bishop’s office grew a fraction in that moment. But it wasn’t dangerous territory. Not yet, anyway. Kenny was simply acknowledging the aesthetic appeal of his mission partner. That was all.

“You’re supposed to close your eyes when you pray,” Butters said, breaking the moment.

Kenny looked to the ceiling. “Sorry, Heavenly Father, but I was still present, I promise.”

Butters shook his head and took up his bowl again. “How can you be so, I don’t know, free with the doctrine and… and the way you talk to people. I would never get away with that.”

Kenny just shrugged. Most of his food was already gone by now, but he didn’t want to get up. “I didn’t grow up in a typical Mormon household. My family were converts so I never really got the whole… formality of everything. It seems fake to me. Faith shouldn’t be some kind of job, right? It’s supposed to make your life better, not worse.”

“That’s what you need to take with you on our missionary runs!” Butters exclaimed, leaning forward on the couch in his excitement. “Show people they don’t have to work that hard at this. They’re not obligated. That woman earlier… she didn’t want to follow the Words of Wisdom but I think if we weren’t so strict, we would have had her!”

Kenny raised an eyebrow. “So you’re saying I should sell my particular brand of I-don’t-give-a-fuck Mormonism?” 

Butters gasped audibly, bringing a hand to his mouth. “Kenny!”

Kenny laughed, easy and carefree. “No one’s here to hear us.”

“Except Heavenly Father!”

“Sometimes I doubt Heavenly Father has the time to care about whether or not we say a few man-made cuss words,” Kenny said with a roll of his eyes.

Butters must not have known how to respond because he was silent for a moment, staring into his bowl of macaroni and cheese like he were scrying for answers. Finally, when he looked up, his eyes were wet. “I have to believe that Heavenly Father cares for me. It’s the only thing that’s gotten me this far.”

And just like that, the tone of the evening changed. The air became charged with melancholy particles. Kenny set his bowl aside and turned to face Butters completely. “Butters… do you want to talk about it?” Even if Butters did, Kenny wouldn’t know what to say about it. Something like this would make him want to run, normally, but he didn’t want to run from Butters.

Butters shook his head. “Not right now. I just think you should give Heavenly Father a little more credit.”

“Okay,” Kenny said quietly, pulling back the urge to place a hand on Butters’ knee. “I’m sorry.”

Kenny got up to let Butters finish his food and he went about cleaning up the mess. Usually if one of them cooked, the other cleaned, but he thought it was best that he let Butters have a break. Besides, he needed something to do to preoccupy his mind because he couldn’t get the image of Butters’ face out of his head.

Suddenly Kenny was aware of a presence at his side and Butters’ soft voice broke the silence. “It’s okay, Kenny. I’ll finish cleaning up.”

“It’s no problem—”

“Please,” Butters pleaded. The crack in his voice caused Kenny to turn around and look at him. He was smiling even though his voice sounded sad. “Let me do the work.”

Kenny turned off the water and shook his head. “You take the night off. I got this, man.”

Butters grew insistent. “But I have to do them. I have to clean up. I said please.”

“Why? Why do you have to clean up? You can take a break. It’s /okay./”

“I—” Butters began and then he deflated, the false smile on his face fading from view. Kenny’s hopes rose. Was he going to get an answer? “I just feel weird when I don’t clean up after dinner. I had to do it every day back home. It was my job.”

“Well it’s not your job here, Butters. Nothing is going to happen to you if you take the night off.”

“N-nothing?” The concept sounded foreign to him. Just what did his parents do to him?

“Butters, did your parents punish you for not cleaning up?” The words were out before Kenny could stop them. He didn’t want to pry, but at the same time he absolutely wanted to pry. If he was going to live with Butters for a long time, he didn’t want to have to dodge around social bullets.

“I…. they…. Um…” Butters stuttered for a moment, took a deep breath, and tried again. “They were angry with me a lot. I’m not a very good listener, I guess. I try to be obedient! I really do! But sometimes things just happen. I fall to Satan a lot.”

“Dude…. We /all/ fall to Satan a lot,” Kenny reassured him. “That’s just part of being human. Your parents are dicks for not seeing that. Guess what? They’re not around right now. You can do whatever you want in this apartment with me. No one is going to know. I ain’t no snitch.”

Butters cracked a smile, but only one side of his mouth turned upward. “I guess… I mean… I can try. But Kenny, they’ll be so angry with me if they find out we’re not doing so great. We have to bring someone to baptism and soon! Can we make a deal?”

“A deal?” Kenny raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t expected that. “Sure, I guess?”

“If I unwind here at home, you have to be more diligent as a missionary. Okay, Kenny? We have to do a better job.”

Kenny sighed. He’d hoped Butters wouldn’t notice how much he’d been slacking, but then again, he hadn’t done a good job of making it conspicuous. “Fine,” Kenny agreed. “I’ll see what I can do.” Really, it was a wonder he ever passed the missionary interview. He’d done a lot of bullshitting.

Butters brightened up and actually stepped away from the sink. “Okay. I…. I think I might go read a book!”

“But not the Book of Mormon, okay? A different book.”

“Right. A different book,” Butters agreed. Then he took a deep breath and suddenly threw his arms around Kenny from the side. It caught Kenny off guard and he stumbled, his hands reaching out to the sink to hold onto it just to keep himself from falling. “Thanks, Kenny!”

“Hey uh…” Kenny said, finding himself swallowing thickly. He had very little contact with Butters save for that moment in the Bishop’s office. When Butters finally pulled away it was noticeable. “No prob. If we’re uptight all the time, we’ll go crazy.”

Butters nodded and slowly backed up, then turned around and went to his room. He hesitated a few times, but kept going and Kenny forced himself to stop watching so he could get back to washing the dishes.

And he couldn’t help it. He wanted more hugs. Kenny made it a personal goal to get as many of them from Butters as possible.


	4. Chapter 4

Part of the deal Kenny made with Butters meant they had to stay out longer than usual. Before, they always made it home at sunset, but Butters suggested making some night visits to people when they were more likely to be home. By all accounts it made more sense, but it still sucked. They had more doors slam in their face than ever.

One particular evening they were on the bus, squished together with the evening crowd. Butters hugged the backpack in front of him on his lap and Kenny wished more than ever for a set of earbuds. They didn’t talk on the bus. Hardly anyone did. They all tuned themselves out with their own earbuds and looked out the window mindlessly.

They stopped at the corner of a gas station and a swaying man boarded the bus. As he made his way down the aisle, he stopped and eyed the missionaries suspiciously. He held onto a pole and slumped against it, still staring.

Finally he said, “Guess they got queers in that cult, huh.”

Butters immediately turned a bright shade of red and Kenny did, too, but his was out of anger instead of embarrassment. “Excuse me?” he retorted. Protocol said they were not to engage in behavior like this, but Kenny was never one for protocol.

“You and your boyfriend there. Spreading the word of Christ and your legs? Fucking Jesus types. He loves you in more ways than one.” His speech was slurred and his upper lip curled up into a sneer that shifted his features into something ten times more ugly than they were before.

Kenny made a move to stand up and get himself into a yelling match with the man but Butters held a hand out to keep him down. “It’s okay, Kenny. That’s just Satan talking through him.” He looked at the man. “Jesus loves you, too, you know. And… and he wants to be your friend if you’ll let him.”

The man roared with laughter. “Oh that’s rich! Fuck that religion. Ain’t never done a thing for me.”

“Our church is open to anyone and everyone, if you change your mind,” Butters said kindly.

Kenny just wanted to punch the guy.

The drunkard swayed a little as the bus stopped at a light, then he moved to a much closer pole. “You got them cock-sucking lips,” he said, leaning heavily toward Butters. Kenny could smell the alcohol and body odor radiating from his old coat. “Jesus ain’t what you’re sellin’ door to door after all is it?”

Butters gasped. Kenny snapped.

“Here,” Kenny spat, in lieu of making a fist. He unzipped the backpack on Butters’ lap and pulled out a Book of Mormon. “Here’s some light reading for you.” Then, in his anger, he shoved the book in the man’s chest. He didn’t push very hard, but the bus chose that moment to move again and with his equilibrium compromised, the man stumbled across the aisle and fell into the lap of a heavy-set older woman.

“Did you see that?!” the man roared. The woman shoved him off her with a dignified huff.

“You leave them good Jesus boys alone!” she said, hitting him on the side with her cane. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“They pushed ME.”

“Don’t you be playin’ that victim card on me,” the woman shrieked. “You’re gettin’ off at the last stop, do you hear me?”

Kenny’s eyes widened. He didn’t want some stranger to fight his battles for him. “That’s okay,” he said, standing up with such force that Butters couldn’t hold him down anymore. “We’ll get off on the next stop. Come on, Butters.”

“They even have queer nicknames for e—OWW.” The woman silenced him with another whack of her cane.

As the bus stopped, Kenny made a show of grabbing for Butters’ hand and even chanced a smirk at the drunk man as they exited the vehicle. Butters hastily muttered an apology and a blessing before Kenny pulled him off the bus the rest of the way.

Kenny didn’t even watch the bus pull away. He immediately slammed his fist into the walls of the bus stop and rested his head against the cool plastic. “I wanted to throw that Book of Mormon right at his /face!” he spat.

Butters placed a calming hand on Kenny’s shoulder. “That wouldn’t be Choosing the Right, Kenny.”

“I know but I couldn’t bitch him out the way I wanted to. I have about fifty different comebacks all lined up for him and I couldn’t a fucking word because of this damn uniform!” he wanted to pull off his Elder badge and toss it into the road for some unsuspecting car to run over.

“Don’t do that, Kenny! Spreading the gospel is a gift! We’re so lucky to be doing this!”

“Are we?” Kenny rounded on him. “Maybe I’m letting Satan get to me. I don’t know. But there’s so much I want to do and see and all I get to do is walk around, knock on doors, and stare at walls. What kind of life is this?”

“Humbling…. It’s supposed to humble us before Heavenly Father,” Butters said.

“I didn’t even want to do this!”

Butters’ eyes widened. “Wh…what?”

Kenny shut his eyes and waved it off. “No… forget it. Nevermind. Let’s just go home. We’re close enough to walk the rest of the way.”

Butters was quiet for much of the walk. It wasn’t until they turned onto their street that he finally spoke up. “I didn’t want to do this, either.”

Kenny coughed in surprise. Butters? Really? “Did your parents make you?”

Butters nodded. So it wasn’t that hard to figure out. “But I thought it was going to be an adventure. I wanted to see someplace new but…”

“But this place isn’t new,” Kenny said, understanding.

“No. It looks just like home.”

“Yeah… I know how you feel,” Kenny sighed, then he began to chuckle. “What a pair we are. No wonder we can’t get anyone to listen to us. Neither of us wants to be here.”

Butters began to giggle with Kenny. The way his face shone with his laughter made the anger that had been stewing in Kenny’s gut dissipate entirely. “Then what’s keeping us here?”

What indeed.

That night after they finished preparing for bed, Butters hesitated at his door.

“Kenny?”

“Mmhmm?” Kenny answered, already eyeing his bed with need. It had been a long day.

“I was thinking about… when you called me Butters earlier on the bus…”

“Yes,” Kenny answered with a sigh. He swiped a frustrated hand down his face, stretching out his features. “I didn’t mean to fuck up like that. Shoulda said Elder Stotch, right?”

“No um… it made me think. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you use my name. No one… no one uses my name. I’m Butters to everyone….” Butters’ voice trailed off.

Kenny stopped longing for his bed and turned to face Butters with a soft face. “So you want me to call you Leopold?”

“Well, well yeah,” Butters murmured, shrugging and not meeting Kenny’s eyes.

Kenny snorted. “I’m not calling you that.”

“What?”

Kenny held a fist out for Butters to bump. “I’ll call you Leo. It’s more badass. Like the Ninja Turtle.”

Butters smiled calmly but even the action began to glow a little. He bumped Kenny’s fist with his own. “A-alright. Goodnight, Kenny.”

“’Night, Leo.”

Once in his beloved bed, Kenny couldn’t sleep. What was stopping him from ending his mission and going home early? Surely they would understand, right? He wasn’t forced to continue with this for two years if he didn’t want to do it anymore, did he? 

Every time his mind wandered it landed on Butters at the other end of the apartment. There was so much he didn’t know about his mission partner and he wanted to know more. Ever since Butters decided to lighten up at home, he was so much more fun to be around. They joked about things that had happened to them that day and played different card games to pass the time.

When they were assigned readings by the mission council, they got through them together by finding loopholes and questioned the passages together. Butters even began reading them in a funny voice just to make Kenny laugh.

Even the quiet nights when they stayed up reading weren’t so bad. They’d discovered little ‘Take a book, leave a book’ libraries where they snuck something fun to read. Butters as a mission partner was fun. If Kenny were stuck with anyone else, he surely would have died of boredom but as it turned out, both boys were used to being alone and without electronics. Kenny’s family couldn’t afford them and Butters’ parents were so strict.

Kenny knew if he went home, he’d miss Butters. He’d grown attached to his mission partner. Every time Butters’ face lit up, Kenny’s mood would instantly get better. He was so cute and innocent and genuine and so very different from Kenny that it was a wonder they got along at all. Maybe it was that old saying: opposites attract.

The thought made Kenny pause. Now that the thought crossed his mind, he knew it to be true. 

Kenny liked Butters.

 

It wasn’t that big of a revelation, but once Kenny was aware of his feelings, everything about Butters began to change. Every touch, no matter how small, send jolts of electricity flowing from their point of contact directly to Kenny’s chest.

This wasn’t like his crush on Gary back home, or the pining he felt for celebrities with perfect bodies. This was something else.

Kenny found himself staring a little more than he should—sitting a little closer to Butters than he should. As far as he knew, Butters hadn’t picked up on it, yet.

On Sundays, during Sacrament meeting, they sat shoulder to shoulder in their designated pew, pretending to sing the hymns together and no one said a word about it. Sometimes during a Sacrament talk Kenny would nudge Butters’ toe with his own and they would share some kind of secret smile. Kenny looked forward to it every meeting.

One Sunday, as they were making their way to Gospel Principles, Tweek stopped them.

“Hey!” he said, one eye closing momentarily as his head jerked to the side. “Mom and Dad want to know if you want to come to our house for Family Night tomorrow night?”

Mondays were the only days they didn’t have to go around knocking on doors, which was nice. Kenny never thought he would look forward to Mondays so much. Most of the time he and Butters only went to the park and envied the people they saw playing Pokemon Go. They didn’t have to be in uniform, either, which made them blend in a little more. Sometimes a church family would take them out to eat, but so far no one had invited them over for Family Night.

“Sure!” Butters said happily. Tweek was easily one of their favorite members of the congregation. Jimmy Valmer was a close second. He was funny, but he was the son of the bishop, which made Kenny feel like he was talking to a grenade.

Kenny nodded in agreement. “Should we catch the bus over or…?”

“Dad can pick you up.”

Kenny breathed a sigh of relief. Any chance to avoid the bus was welcome. That and they would get a warm meal from the Tweaks which was always welcome.

 

Kenny and Butters spent that Monday in plain clothing running a few errands. They hit up the grocery store using the small care fund the Stotches sent. Kenny was an expert at stretching a dollar and since his family didn’t bother to send him anything, they needed to make Butters’ allowance go as far as it could.

Shopping with Butters was fun. He didn’t tell Kenny off for cracking jokes at all the brand names or making terrible puns. Even when Kenny held up a set of cantaloupes to his chest as breasts, Butters didn’t reprimand him. He only laughed.

It was easier to be themselves when they didn’t have the starched white shirt and uncomfortable black slacks.

Butters suggested they check out the library. They couldn’t get a library card, but they could always use the computers or read something new. Kenny used the time to catch up on what he was missing in the outside world. A lot seemed to happen when he wasn’t avidly paying attention.

As he sifted through the internet, it suddenly occurred to Kenny that he didn’t have to spend his Mondays idly watching paint dry. He hissed for Butters to come join him at the computer. He’d pulled up a website indicating all the things they could do in St. Louis.

“Look at this, Leo. This is the adventure we’re missing out on. We can do all of these things,” Kenny said, pointing at the screen. “We could see the Arch. Or go to the zoo. The zoo is /free/ Butters.”

“Free?” Butters croaked, reaching across the keyboard to the mouse. He scrolled upward on the article just to make sure. “Can we really go sight-seeing, Kenny?”

Kenny was pretty sure Butters had no idea how close he was. When he reached across Kenny like that, all it would take was a second of bad decision making and Kenny could have his arm around his waist and a very light Butters in his lap. He shook off the thought. It would be pointless to think of things like that. “There’s nothing saying we can’t. It’s not media. It’s just things. We should go.”

“Yeah….” Butters said, pulling away. “Maybe we can have fun after all.”

“What, you mean I’m not fun?” Kenny teased.

Butters’ cheeks pinked a little and he took a step back. “N-no! You’re fun! You make this mission bearable.”

“Do I, now?” Kenny’s teasing voice pushed even further. This was a fun development.

“Well, well if I have to be stuck doing this instead of… whatever else. Then I’m glad I got stuck doing it with you, Kenny.”

Butters wasn’t looking at him, but Kenny could practically feel the heat coming off his face. “The feeling’s mutual man. I haven’t left yet because I like hanging out with you.”

Finally Butters turned to face him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

It wasn’t an admission, but both missionaries shared a smile. The moment hung around them like snow that refused to fall straight down. Butters’ bright blue eyes were easy to get lost in, so Kenny forced himself to look away to make things easier. Unfortunately, it was February, now, and the library had decorated for Valentine’s day. The red paper hearts did nothing but mock him the whole time.

Their phone buzzed. Butters jumped. “Oh hamburgers. That’s the alarm. We gotta get home, Kenny. Brother Tweak is picking us up soon.”

 

The Tweak’s house wasn’t too big or too little, but it felt homey enough. Their living room was wide and their large L-shaped couch felt like it could accommodate a steady flow of guests despite it being just the three of them.

Tweek had also invited someone over, a tall boy in a blue hoodie with jet black hair who was playing on his phone.

“Oh man! You’re here!” Tweek interjected when his father came home with the missionaries. “I was so worried something would have happened to you! Like a car crash or getting stopped by those firemen who ask for money on the side of the road or…”

“Relax, Tweek,” his father said. “They were in good hands.” He turned to Kenny and Butters. “Can I get you boys anything?”

“Some water?” Butters asked. 

As Brother Tweak disappeared into the kitchen, Tweek motioned for them to come inside. “You can sit anywhere I guess. This is um, Craig. He’s a friend from school.”

Craig hardly looked up from his phone but he waved.

“Hey, Craig!” Butters said cheerfully.

Craig finally looked up and Kenny nearly gasped at how piercing his eyes were. Craig looked from Tweek and back to Butters and Kenny. “It’s invasion of the blondes, I guess.”

Kenny snorted. Craig’s deadpan voice came as a relief compared to all the boisterous and happy voices he was used to hearing from the members of the church. Was Craig a part of the church? Kenny hadn’t ever seen him at the ward, before.

Tweek answered the unasked question for him. “Craig’s my um…. My best friend. He’s not –argh! --in the church or anything. He just likes coming to these things.”

Craig made a noncommittal shrug and went back to playing on his phone. “It’s only because Mrs. Tweak makes a mean lasagna.”

Brother Tweak emerged from the kitchen with two glasses of water for Kenny and Butters. Kenny took his gratefully. “Dinner’s just cooling off, boys.

“Thank you for inviting us, Brother Tweak,” Butters offered, always the one to remember his manners first.

“It’s our pleasure, boys. Always happy to help out the missionaries when we can. You boys have a preference in what game we play tonight?” said Brother Tweak.

“Not charades!” Tweek shouted immediately.

Butters lit up. “Oh, I love charades!”

Craig took one look at him and deadpanned. “No.”

Kenny laughed. He couldn’t help it. As much as he wanted to see Craig act out some kind of movie, he didn’t want to do any of that, either. “What are our other options.”

“Well let’s see,” Brother Tweak moved to a hall closet and opened it like a refrigerator, scanning its contents. “We have Ticket to Ride, Pandemic, Scrabble, Taboo… what sounds good?”

“I’ve never played any of those before,” Kenny admitted.

“What? Never?” Butters turned to him, astonished. “Pandemic is so fun. You get to cure the world of disease and you work collectively as a team. You’re missing out!”

Kenny didn’t have to be told how much he was missing out on board games. “Then let’s play Pandemic.”

“Pandemic it is,” Brother Tweak chirped, pulling out the game. “Tweek, why don’t you familiarize the Elders with the rules while I check on that lasagna?”

“Me? Argh! That’s too much pressure! What if I forget some?”

“It’s fine, Tweek,” Craig said, sitting up on the couch. “I got it.”

Craig gave them the most half-assed version of the rules possible, but Butters chipped in to fill in the missing pieces. Eventually Brother and Sister Tweak joined them by setting up a card table. After they eat got their slice of lasagna, they sat together and began to heal the world.

It was a fun game, actually, and the team effort involved meant no one had to gang up on anyone else. After they failed to rid the world of the viruses the first time around, they played until they won the game, the lasagna was eaten and too much time had passed.

While they cleaned up, Kenny excused himself to use the restroom. On his way, he couldn’t help but notice the pictures the Tweaks had up in their home. Tweek looked disheveled and out of place in all of his school pictures, causing Kenny to laugh a little to himself. They looked like they had a nice home.

But one picture stood out to him. Tweek stood with his mother and father in front of a building, a coffee shop, Kenny could tell because of the large cup of coffee on the sign. The front said, “Tweak Bros.” Kenny’s eyes widened. The Tweaks once owned a coffee shop? Coffee was forbidden by the Words of Wisdom. Then why keep this picture around?

Rather than dwell on it, Kenny quickly used the restroom but when he stepped out, Tweek was out there. “Sorry man,” Kenny said, stepping to the side. “You need to go?”

“No. Just… worried you got lost.”

Kenny chuckled. “No need to worry, man. I’m good. It’s always the second door on the left for some reason. Can’t possibly get lost.”

Tweek smiled.

“Oh hey, while you’re here. Can I ask about this?” Kenny pointed to the photograph of the coffee shop.

Tweek turned to face the picture. “Oh yeah… my dad used to run a coffee shop before we were converted. He gave up everything to join the church. I…”

He stopped and began to pull at his shirt.

“I—ahh!—nevermind. I shouldn’t be talking to you about this!”

“Dude, relax,” Kenny replied softly. “I’m like the worst missionary ever. I haven’t even made it through one Plan of Salvation.”

But Tweek shook his head. “No, I shouldn’t say anything. We should go back.”

Confused, Kenny agreed. It wasn’t his place to pry, no matter how interesting it appeared to him. They passed Craig in the hallway and Craig brushed shoulders with Tweek in a way that didn’t look like an accident at all. He had his head looking down at his phone, but Kenny saw his eyes shifted discreetly toward Tweek. How… interesting. Tweek blushed and fidgeted in front of him and Kenny couldn’t help but dart his eyes back and forth between the two of them.

“I’ll be in your room, Tweek,” Craig said coolly. He raised his hand for a fist bump with Kenny. “It was good meeting you, dude. You’re not so bad.”

“Yeah? You’re a good strategist in Pandemic.”

Craig just shrugged and continued down the hallway. When Tweek and Kenny made it back to the living room, Butters was happily munching on a plate of cookies. He looked so content it made Kenny’s heart swell.

“Are you ready for the lesson?” Sister Tweak asked hopefully. Kenny deflated. They still had to do that? Wasn’t it late?

It seemed he didn’t have a choice. With a sigh, he sat down on the couch as Brother Tweak got out the Book of Mormon. “Today we look at the second book of Nephi…”

Kenny’s eyes were crossing by the end of the night. The only thing that kept him awake was the way Butters’ let kept touching his own and Butters would freak out about it and pull away only to gravitate toward Kenny’s leg again. It was amusing to watch and Kenny shuffled toward Butters a fraction of an inch just to make it happen more often.

Somehow, Tweek was nominated to say the closing prayer and it was single-handedly one of the most beautiful prayers Kenny had ever heard.

“You want me to pray? Gah! That’s too much pressure!”

“This is just our home, Tweek. It’s not in front of the congregation.”

“Oh man. Oh jeez. Okay. Um. Dear Heavenly Father. Thank you for making me say this prayer. Please help me to say this prayer. I uh… I saythesethingsinthenameofJesusAmen.”

Tweek’s eyes were shut the entire time and when he opened one to peek out, he caught Kenny’s eye and without thinking he winked. Tweek blushed and closed his eye again.

“I think it’s time I took you two boys home,” Brother Tweak said, standing up and stretching, perhaps a little annoyed at his son’s lack of substance in his prayer. Sister Tweak packed some leftover lasagna and cookies for them to take home and soon both Kenny and Butters were saying their goodbyes.

 

“That was fun,” Butters said later that evening when they were home. “The Tweaks are so fun. And Craig was really good at games! I wish I had a friend who came to Family Nights with me.”

“Aw, Leo, I would have come to your Family Nights.”

“That would have been nice, Kenny,” Butters said softly.

“We should ask to borrow some board games if they’ll let us,” Kenny offered. “Something to do.”

“Yeah, we could play Pandemic together. I bet you can cure faster with two people.”

They played rock-paper-scissors to determine who got to shower first and Kenny won. After he finished, he hid away in his room to give Butters some privacy. He stood in front of his mirror, this time wearing only a pair of boxers. When asked if he wanted to undergo his endowment ceremony before his mission he declined, saying he didn’t feel he was ready and launched into some BS about finding himself on his mission. Well here was his mission… and the Kenny he found wasn’t the Kenny he expected. He watched his reflection and practiced his smiles. The cheesier the better. He could hear Butters singing to himself in the shower—some song they learned in Primary.

“Jesus wants me for a sunBEAM!”

Kenny snorted, trying to hold in his laughter. Why did Butters have to be so cute? It was only then that his reflection in the mirror looked genuine, serene. He kept as quiet as he could just to hear Butters finish the song. 

Later, he made his way to his bed to flip through a graphic novel he snuck in his luggage.

Kenny didn’t know how long he’d been engrossed in his novel before there was a knock on the door. He jumped but didn’t set down his book. There was no way he could hide it anyway, and he doubted Butters would turn him in for reading it. Church-approved-media his ass.

“Um… Ken? I’m sorry. Kenny?”

“What’s up, man?”

Slowly Kenny’s door opened to show Butters looking awkward in his sacred garments. Of course Butters would have undergone the endowment ceremony. Kenny couldn’t imagine being confined to such awkward-looking clothes.

Not to mention in their hastiness to be chaste and modest, they didn’t do a very good job. They were white and Butters was damp.

Still, Kenny cleared his throat and tried to look interested in what Butters was saying. Something about Tweek’s house…

“….and I was thinking about Craig and how he was allowed to be at Tweek’s house but he didn’t have to be a part of the lesson. We could do that with other families, you know? If not everyone is on board, they can leave the room and… and we could do it that way.”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Kenny sat up in his bed, his cover falling from him and exposing his bare shoulders and torso. Butters noticed and hastily looked away.

“Y-you don’t wear temple garments?”

“Never got endowed.” Heh.

“Oh, well, you can do that at the temple here if you want. We could make a day of it. You and me. I can help walk you through the ceremony.” Butters eyes kept darting up at Kenny and pulling away.

Kenny shook his head and may have purposely lounged a bit on the bed just to see what kind of reaction he could pull from his mission partner. “That’s okay, Leo. I’m good with my own underwear for now.”

“Well, okay…”

“Goodnight, Leo.” Kenny gave him his best knowing grin. Butters kept looking at him from behind his lashes until he excused himself and shut the door behind him. Kenny put his face to his graphic novel just to hide the beaming smile on his face. 

Oh, Butters just made things very interesting.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Throwing all these people into this universe is so ridiculous, I don't know why I do this to myself.

Butters wanted to put their new game plan into effect right away. It went as follows:

Step 1: Have Kenny use down-to-earth language to speak to investigators.

Step 2: Allow those who do not wish to hear the gospel to leave the room.

Step 3: Get a baptism and save their hides.

It was a simple enough plan and it looked great both on paper and in theory, but Kenny felt like so much of it landed on him that it only made him want to jump out the window and abandon this whole endeavor, cute mission partner and all. The world was filled with cute people. Hell, Craig was a cute people. Kenny could get behind that. Or in front, whatever.

And yet he found himself chugging along the sidewalks with Butters, trudging through the freshly fallen January snow. Kenny was used to the snow and the cold, but it looked like the rest of the city wasn’t. People were holed up in their homes and afraid to come out for fear of certain death. That, of course, made it much easier for Kenny and Butters to have someone actually answer the door.

They were in a poor part of town, one that made Kenny feel more comfortable. The high rising McMansions of the upper class unnerved him. Here he felt like he could slouch a little and be a part of something other than his current plight.

Some people were rude here, and others let their large dogs do the door-answering for them. And then, there was the odd old lady who tried to convert them to a completely different religion when prompted.

Just as Butters’ unwavering optimism began to lose face, Kenny knocked on the door of a nondescript single family home.

The door opened to a heavy-set young man about their own age with a thick red sweater and a blue snow cap even though he was indoors. Kenny didn’t question the absurdity of it. He couldn’t feel much heat coming from inside.

“Hey man,” Kenny started, opting for the less-traditional approach he and Butters agreed on that went completely against the missionary teachings. “You wanna hear about something awesome?”

“Uh….” the stranger said intelligently. He eyed the two of them and then he started to laugh. “Mom!” he called out into the home. “Mom, get over here! There’s honest-to-God Jehovah’s Homos at the door!”

Kenny felt the familiar grip of anger twist in his stomach. He knew Butters had it too based purely on the way he could practically feel the other boy tense behind him. Kenny balled one hand into a fist to deflect his emotions and kept his smile, though his teeth were clenched. “Please, it will only take a minute of your time.”

“Hahahaha, yeah, okay, totally. Come on in,” the stranger said, leading the way inside. A woman appeared from somewhere else in the house and smiled in greeting. By all accounts it was better for them to stay on the doorstep, or better yet on the sidewalk, walking far away. But they were invited in and like vampires they were obligated to invade the premises.

“Why hello! Oh, you’re so young! And you must be so cold! Come inside and sit by the space heater. You poor things. Eric sweetie, can you close the door?” Her voice was high and gentle—a far cry from her son’s raspy and overstated drawl.

Eric didn’t just shut the door. He slammed it in a way that indicated he wasn’t happy that his mom gave him an order. Kenny figured it was best to get this out of the way.

“I’m Elder McCormick,” he stated and then indicated Butters. “And this is Elder Stotch. We’re actually from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints and I have a feeling you’re going to like what we have to say.”

“Yeah,” Butters chirmed in. “It’s real interesting. You can save your whole soul! How about that?”

“My soul is already saved. I went to church a few times. I know all about your Jesus,” Eric mumbled. “Can’t you say anything else super dumb? Like how hard you get for Jesus or something? I want to put something good up on Instagram.” He held his phone in front of him and moved around the room, trying to get a good angle.

Butters shied away from the camera which just put him behind Kenny more. Kenny’s eye twitched at Cartman’s movements. Time to initiate step two. “What was your name again? Eric? If you don’t want to listen, no one is making you. We can talk to your mother here or leave.”

“Um…. Leave. This is my house,” Eric snapped immediately.

“Now hold one,” Eric’s mother stepped forward, gently nudging her son aside. “Eric, I want to know what these boys have to say. Why don’t you go up to your room and play your games. Enjoy your snow day.”

“But myooooooom!” Eric whined. Actually whined.

Eric’s mother shook her head. “I’m a big girl, sweetie. I can handle myself. I’ll call you when dinner is ready.”

Eric mumbled to himself and tromped off toward his room leaving his mother alone with Kenny and Butters. Kenny could hardly believe it. So far their plan was working.

Kenny held his hand out for the mother to shake. “I never caught your name, ma’am.”

“Oh I’m Liane,” she said gracefully. “Liane Cartman. Please, take a seat.”

The couch was old and riddled with cheesy dust but Kenny was grateful for the chance to sit. Butters hesitated a little, trying to wipe off some of the dirt before sitting. Kenny flashed Butters a hopeful look which Butters returned but then Butters looked toward some place behind Kenny and his smile faded. Kenny turned to see Liane had undone one of the buttons of her shirt, lowering the neckline of her blouse.

Oh.

Kenny could deal with this. He leaned back on the couch and gave Liane a smarmy grin. If this wasn’t the most sinful way to get someone to come to the church…

“So, Mrs. Cartman. What questions do you have for the church?”

“Oh please, call me Liane,” she breathed. “I’ve always been so curious about your ways. What church did you say you were from?”

“The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, ma’am.”

“I thought you were Mormons.”

“Ah,” Butters piped up. “Well, we are. We’re Mormons because we follow the Book of Mormon. He was a prophet who used to live here on Earth. He compiled all the books of the prophets and good men before him into one true document. We call it the Book of Mormon because he was the editor.”

“Oh how… how odd….” Liane raked a hand across her collarbone. “And is it true you can marry multiple women?”

Butters sputtered and turned a bright shade of red and Kenny interjected with a shake of his head. “After the Prophet Joseph Smith died, there were some factions who did not believe he named his friend Brigham Young as the new prophet. They began to follow their own prophets, including Joseph Smith’s son, Joseph Smith Jr. Some of those sects are polygamous.”

“Yeah,” Butters said, finding his voice. “We believe families should be together forever, but they consist of one man and one wife and their children.” Kenny didn’t like hearing that out loud. One man and one woman. It felt as constricting as the temple garments looked. And yet his hypocritical ass kept going.

“Well then… who was Joseph Smith?”

….and so it began.

Butters and Kenny tag-teamed it. They no longer needed their plan of action. Liane was eagerly eating up their words for one reason or another. They made it through the beginning of Joseph Smith’s life and how he came across the golden plates that would eventually become the Book of Mormon, and they left her with a Book of Mormon for her very own to read. They even read the introduction together to show that there were witnesses to this translation and that it was indeed true.

Liane seemed to glow. “You know, I always thought it was weird that Jesus only seemed to care about Jerusalem. I was raised Catholic and no one ever mentions America.”

“Heavenly Father didn’t forget about America,” Kenny said. “Next time we come, we can read about when Jesus came back from the dead and spread his word across the entire globe. That means he came to America…. And there’s proof right here.”

“Oh boy. You’re coming again?”

“If you want, yeah,” Kenny didn’t even bother pulling away every time she tried to sit closer to him.

“I would like that very much. Just you two boys, yeah?”

“Just us two.”

Liane smiled. “Then we’ll set a date. I’ve been thinking about my past and how I can make up for it and this just feels right.”

“Well we’ll help you, ma’am!” Butters said happily, reaching out to shake her hand. “We can put your number into our phone to keep in touch.”

When Liane gave Butters her information and they set up a date for their next visit, Kenny could see a complete change in Butters posture and facial expression. They found someone. Someone was willing to listen to them. This was a leap in the right direction!

“May we close this session with a prayer?” Butters asked.

“Oh, yes. Certainly.”

Butters opened his mouth to start praying but then remembered protocol. “You can pick who you want to say the prayer.”

Liane’s hand went to her chest in such a way that it seemed like she was trying to direct attention to her breasts. “Oh me? Well.” She turned to Kenny. “You’re just so adorable. Why don’t you do it, honey?”

Kenny figured if he was going to keep riding this cougar train all the way to her baptism, he was going to secure the deal. “Of course. Just fold your arms across your middle and be reverent. That is, to listen with your heart.” Liane placed her arms around her middle and purposely pushed her breasts up exactly how Kenny thought she would. They were nice-looking anyway. Not that he noticed. “And now… we pray….”

\--

“Oh Kenny we have one! We have one!”

As soon as they were at the end of the Cartmans’ driveway, Butters had launched himself onto Kenny’s arm in a half hug.

“We have a callback! We’re going back to see her! Do you think she’ll get baptized?”

“Calm down,” Kenny said gently, making sure to steady himself on the slippery ground. “It’s still in the air. She’s investigating. We have to convince her to come to church with us, still.”

“I think she’ll come,” Butters said hopefully. “And maybe we can convert her son, too. He really needs the spirit, Kenny!”

“Yeah,” Kenny chuckled as they made their way to the bus stop. “He really does.”

\--

High on their first victory, Kenny and Butters made it through the week not even bothered that they hadn’t gotten through to anyone else. Granted it seemed like Liane only wanted into the church for the cute missionaries, but Kenny was only here for a cute missionary so he could sympathize. 

By the time Sunday rolled around, they were happy just to have something to report to the Bishop. But when Kenny and Butters walked into the chapel area, they were greeted with another pair of pristine, suited missionaries.

Once they spotted Kenny and Butters, the two missionaries made their way over. The taller one had dark black hair, cropped short, and the build of someone who knew his way around a football field. Kenny cursed the heavens for sending yet another good-looking missionary into his lap. The shorter one’s hair curled a bit and was a dirty brown but he wasn’t at all appealing, which Kenny found refreshing.

“Hey,” the taller football player said, extending his hand. Kenny shook it. It was firm. And businesslike. For every bit of Butters that was soft and gentle, this guy was rough and angled. “I’m Elder Marsh. This is my mission partner, Elder Malkinson. This is a nice little ward over here. Very homey.”

“Uh-huh…” Kenny said, trailing off. Why were there other missionaries in their ward? Were they just visiting? “I’m Elder McCormick and this is Elder Stotch.”

“Oh we know who you are,” Elder Marsh said with a shrug. “We were sent by the stake to check up on you guys.”

“Yeah,” Elder Malkinson breathed heavily through his mouth. It sounded like he had a cold. “Stan’s the best.” Elder Marsh gave Elder Malkinson a look. “Oops, I mean Elder Marsh. He’s already baptized eleven people and he’s only been here for six months!”

“E-eleven people?” Butters stuttered.

Elder Marsh waved off the awe. “I don’t do anything. It’s all on the people. They want to come to the church. That’s all.”

Kenny remembered the way Liane practically fell into their lap and he wondered if Stan just happened to get lucky with all of his converts.

“Well we have an investigator! We’re seeing her this week!” Butter interjected. He looked like a kitten trying to stand his ground.

“Just one?” Stan asked.

“We have to start somewhere,” Kenny said with a shrug. 

Stan nodded. “Well, your bishop reached out to our bishop for help. That’s why we’re here. Looks like we’ll be working together, the four of us.”

“Yeah?” Kenny said out loud when he really wanted to scream up at the ceiling. He could relax around Butters but he didn’t think he could do anything like that with two more people breathing down his neck. Even if one of them was hotter than the sun. That was just one more boner for Kenny to have to hide away. Not that Butters ever gave him one. Yet.

“Isn’t that exciting?” said Elder Malkinson.

“Totally,” said Kenny.

“Great!” said Elder Marsh.

It wasn’t great.

All during the Sacrament meeting, Kenny and Butters had to sit next to Elder Marsh and Elder Malkinson. It took away from the tiny moments he got to nudge at Butters’ knee and try to see how flush he could get with Butters’ arm before anyone noticed. Now, he felt like he was constantly being judged by the two senior missionaries. 

After the meeting, Butters tugged Kenny into the coat room so they could speak privately. Kenny was more than happy to oblige.

“What are we gonna do, Kenny?” Butters asked, nervous. “They’re going to either take all our people from us or they’re going to find out we both don’t want to be here. Oh no oh no oh no…” Butters began to fidget, pressing the backs of his fists together in a nervous fit.

Kenny placed his hands on either side of Butters’ shoulders to try and calm him down. The fidgeting stopped, but his hands were still together. “Maybe they’ll just give us some pointers and go away.”

Butters sniffed. “You know… it wouldn’t be so bad… having some friends who know what we’re going through.”

“That’s the spirit,” Kenny nudged Butters’ cheek with his hand. This more than made up for not being able to touch him during the Sacrament meeting. It unnerved him how much he wanted to be closer to Butters. It wasn’t anything like the crushes he had on nearly everyone back home. The more he got to know Butters the worse it got. He wanted to protect the poor kid. “But still, we’re going to baptize someone and kick their asses. You with me?”

“Well, I don’t know about kicking and um, butts, but—”

Kenny leaned in. They were so close he could smell the mouthwash on Butters’ breath. “Are you with me, Leo?”

Butters swallowed thickly and then nodded. “We’ll beat their record.” His eyes were big and round and Kenny felt like the closer he leaned, the closer he got to falling inside of them.

They were interrupted by a little kid who ran into the coat room to dodge an exhausted mother and they both pulled away. Kenny nodded politely to the mom and ruffled the little kid’s hair before exiting the coat room, Butters in tow.

\--

That Monday Kenny and Butters received a text message from the other Elders asking if it was okay for them to come over. Kenny hastily sent a text back and rolled out of bed. He had been hoping to have some more time to waste by lying about but now he had to get up and do something, so he groaned and hobbled toward the bathroom to brush his teeth and wake himself up.

“Well you’re up early.” 

Butters was sitting in his room when Kenny emerged from the bathroom, toothbrush in mouth. 

Kenny shrugged and then went back to clean up his mouth before going back to Butters’ room. He still hadn’t bothered to change out of his pajamas, which were really just his boxers. He scratched his stomach. Butters wouldn’t look directly at him again. “Got a text from Elder Douchebags. They wanna come over.”

“But!” Butters stammered, hastily trying to put his uniform on a hanger so that it wouldn’t crease. He was in his casual clothing—clothes that were required to be as nondescript as possible, which ended up being plain shirts and khakis. They weren’t allowed to have a personality on mission, apparently. “We were going to go out together… just you and me. I was…. I was looking forward to it.”

Kenny put a hand to his chest in a mocking way. “Awww, Leo. That’s so sweet. I was looking forward to it, too. But now we have to entertain some nerds.”

Butters harrumphed and hung up his shirt. “Yeah well this… this stinks.”

Kenny laughed and leaned against the doorframe, and then he got an itch on his back and used the frame to scratch it, his elbows bowing outward as he got the right spot. He peeked out of the corner of his eye and caught Butters staring, mouth slightly agape and hand still on the hanger in his closet. Well, that was another interesting development. Kenny had no issues with being ogled. He used his shoulder blades to launch himself from the frame and was kind enough to give Butters a heads up so he could avert his gaze again. “I could always tell them one of us is sick.”

Butters gasped. “But that would be lying.”

“But it means I get to spend the day with you alone. Isn’t that worth it?” Kenny teased.

Really, the shade of red that was finding its home on Butters’ face was glorious. “We will have other days, Kenny.”

“Party pooper.”

Butters responded by throwing a sock in Kenny’s direction. “Put a shirt on. You’re distracting me.”

“Oh? Am I distracting?” Kenny teased some more. He wouldn’t have dared to act like this at the beginning of their mission, but they were nearly six weeks in and he thought it was an absolute sin that he hadn’t even seen his roommate naked, yet. He raised his arms over his head and stretched. This time Butters threw a whole shoe at him. It hit Kenny square in the side and he doubled over with both pain and laughter. “Jerk. Fine, I’ll get dressed.”

“Thank you.” But there was no malice in his voice.

Kenny grinned to himself the whole time he got dressed, feeling oddly giddy. Even when he emerged from the room he felt like he walked a little differently. He flirted like this so often with people back home but here, in repressed sexuality universe, it felt good to just get something as small as that out in the open. Kenny was made to flirt. He desperately needed to spread his wings. And the visiting Elders were just going to squash them down.

When he emerged, he saw Butters at the dining table with a bowl of cereal. Butters hardly looked up from the back of the box, no doubt doing whatever puzzle was on there. Kenny let him be for a moment while he went to retrieve his own bowl, but he had to break Butters’ concentration by stealing the cereal box.

“Hey! I didn’t get to finish the maze!”

Kenny glanced at the box in his hand and turned it over to see the maze on the back. “Well, I guess the duck ain’t never gonna find it’s way to the pond…. That’s shaped like a cereal bowl. Are we eating ducks?”

Butters giggled and Kenny poured himself a bowl. He gave the box back and sat down to eat. Just before Kenny was about to take a bite, Butters cleared his throat and Kenny looked up to see Butters glaring at him from over the cereal box.

“Pray?”

“Sorry,” Kenny muttered and set the spoon down. He did a quick, silent prayer and finally began to eat.

“When are the other Elders coming?” Butters asked.

Kenny glanced at the clock on the wall. “Soon, I guess. I don’t know how long it’ll take them to get here.”

“I wonder if they got a ride or they’re taking the bus.”

It was a quiet, mundane conversation. Kenny didn’t have to pay attention to it at all and simply ate his cereal with a peaceful mindset. Butters, however, chose this particular morning to fidget and look uncomfortable. By the time Kenny finished his cereal, he couldn’t ignore his mission partner anymore.

“Leo? You okay?”

Butters stood up suddenly as if he had been shocked. He grabbed his bowl and Kenny’s and took them to the sink.

“Butters?” Maybe it was easier to use the name he knew the most.

Butters tensed at the sink, hand poised over the faucet without turning on the water. 

Concerned, Kenny moved across the room to follow him. The air around Butters felt tense and wrong.

Finally, Butters let out a shuddering breath. “I’m just worried they’re gonna see right through us. I feel like I’m hiding a million secrets and I… and I just don’t know what to do with them all!”

Kenny smiled and leaned against the counter, his arms folding easily across his chest. “It’s gonna be fine, Leo. Just keep doing what you’re doing. I never would have known a thing if you didn’t tell me. You do a convincing job looking like you’ve got a hard on for the gospel.”

“Kenny!”

Kenny laughed. “You’re so hard to read! One second you’re a renegade and the next you’re afraid of authority. I can’t get a feel for you.” He hadn’t taken his eyes off Butters for a second but when he said that, Butters looked up to meet his eyes. Kenny didn’t pull away. “It makes you incredibly interesting,” he finished. He maybe possibly might have also added some of his Kenny smarm to that. There was enough of it, at least, to make Butters blush again and he had to redirect his thoughts to the sink and washing the breakfast dishes. 

There was a knock at the door and Kenny grinned, giving Butters’ shoulder a pat. “Time to feed this web of lies.”

Kenny went to go open the door, but he was surprised to find not both Elders standing there, but only Elder Marsh.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. Six chapters in and nothing has happened. Patience comes to those who really like slow burns.
> 
> But I mean, Kyle is here, now, so yay!
> 
> Also I want to thank the few of you who have commented and sent in kudos. Every tiny like motivates me to write more and finish this even though it's so weird and niche and not at all what anyone in the fandom asked for. I promise when I'm done I'll do something more traditional.

Kenny couldn’t believe Elder Marsh was alone.

He poked his head out into the hallway, double checking that Elder Malkinson wasn’t just around the corner.

Elder Marsh gave a short wave, looking for all the world like he was offended by whatever expression happened to be on Kenny’s face. “Hey. Elder Malkinson’s having a sick day. He has diabetes and I think something went awry yesterday at a ward member’s house with the food. He’ll be fine.”

Butters gasped from the kitchen. “You’re not supposed to go anywhere alone!” he cried.

Elder Marsh shrugged. “I know. Two by two and all that.” He looked so much more genuine in his civilian clothing, with even a blue and red poofball hat to keep out the cold air. “But when the Lord calls you somewhere, you just have to follow, you know?”

“Yeah…” Kenny said offhandedly. And when his dick called out to him, he just had to follow. It and the Lord were so much alike in that respect.

Kenny moved to the side to let Elder Marsh in and shut the door behind him. This was a good thing, Kenny thought. At least with only one of them, any shots at how bad they were doing would be easier to deflect. That, and Elder Malkinson had rubbed him the wrong way. Something about that guy was just off. Elder Marsh might have been the poster boy for missionaries, but at least he was easy on the eyes and that’s what really mattered, right?

“Wow,” Elder Marsh gave out a low whistle of approval as he made his way into the apartment. He spun around in the main room and even peeked through the large vertical blinds to the parking lot below. “You have a nice apartment. Bigger than ours.”

“How can you get much smaller than this?” Butters asked, now finishing up the dishes and drying his hands on a towel.

Elder Marsh groaned. “One bedroom. Two beds crammed in there. Sco—Elder Malkinson snores.”

“Oh man,” Kenny said, “sorry dude, that sucks.” Although at this point, he wouldn’t be entirely angry with sharing a room with Butters. If he did that, he’d probably find ways to make his mission partner faint from all the blushing. Oh, who was he kidding, he would _definitely_ do that. New Year’s Resolutions could be made in February, right?

“Hey uh, Elder Marsh?” Butters piped up.

“Oh dude,” Elder Marsh waved a hand in the air. “Call me Stan. It’s Monday and I need a break, too.”

“R-right. Stan,” said Butters. “Well you can call me Butters.”

“Butters?” said Stan.

Kenny shrugged. “It’s what he’s used to.” That, and he wasn’t about to share the nickname Leo with anyone else. “I’m Kenny.”

“Butters and Kenny,” Stan repeated, testing out the names. In that moment, with the three of them out of their nice clothes and using their normal names, they could have been anyone. Just three guys hanging out in an apartment with no television or video games or a usable smartphone between them.

Butters gave Stan a soft wave. “Are you gonna give us lessons in… in how to get all those baptisms?”

Stan shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and shrugged. “Not really. I mean I could. I was going to when Elder Malkinson… his name’s Scott. When Scott was coming with me. But honestly it’s kind of a relief to take a break from all that.”

“But you’re the best!” Butters protested. “Shouldn’t you be in top shape all the time? I bet you even do house calls on Mondays anyway!”

“I…. do,” Stan said slowly. “But it’s usually Scott that pushes it. He’s the battery; I’m just transmitter, or whatever.”

Kenny threw his hands up in the air. “Does _no one_ want to be a missionary?” he asked the ceiling.

Stand waved his hands. “Oh no, don’t get me wrong. I love my work. And I love bringing people to the church. I just need a day off to act like a normal person. Hear my real name.”

“Stan Stan Stan Stan Stan,” Kenny said.

Stan rolled his eyes. “That’s no where near my quota.”

Kenny launched himself into a running tirade of Stan’s name. Stan laughed at first, but when Kenny took a breath and kept going, Stan took off his red poof ball hat and threw it at Kenny, who broke his chanting because he was laughing instead. Stan was alright by Kenny’s book.

“What were you guys planning on doing today before I texted?” Stan asked as he tried to go and retrieve his hat, but Kenny had picked it up and was holding it behind his back.

Butters spoke up. “Just… you know. Hang out. It’s kind of too cold to try the zoo today.”

Stan tried to reach around Kenny who kept moving ever so slightly out of the way. “We could always hit up a soup kitchen or something.”

Kenny snorted, now holding Stan’s hat in the air. “That’s your idea of a day off? We can soup kitchen it up any day of the week. Tend to the flock and all that jazz.”

Stan, with a well-timed muscular leap, snatched the hat back from Kenny and lightly whacked him on the head with it before putting it back on. “Who said we were going to be serving the soup?”

Butters’ eyes widened, completely ignoring whatever weird silent feud was happening between Stan and Kenny. “Are you saying we take food from the poor? But you’re supposed to be the best missionary in the stake!”

Kenny, now hatless, nudged Butters with his elbow. “He’s gone rogue.”

Stan shook his head. “I’m saying we scope out the competition. Talk to some of the homeless incognito. Invite them to church. It works better when you’re not in uniform.”

“Have you done this before?” Kenny asked.

“Not this, no. But I’ve talked to people out of uniform before and they’re much more receptive if they don’t think you have some kind of hidden agenda. If you’re going to boost your numbers, this is the way to do it.”

Something inside Kenny clicked and his brows furrowed. “Is that a common strategy? Go after the poor?” Is this what happened to his family? Entice poor people with a promise of something better and they’ll come pouring in from all sides? He knew his family had been duped because his parents never followed the Words of Wisdom and his mother openly admitted to using the church for the benefits but he hadn’t stopped to think that the deceit could have gone both ways.

When Stan looked at Kenny, his eyes were steadfast and sure. “Everyone needs saving, but these people will benefit more from the church than a soccer mom and her cubicle husband. I go where the need is greatest. Invite them to the Bishop’s storehouse. Give them something good to look forward to. Opportunity. Networking. A rich person might bring a bigger tithe, but a poor person will bring a better spirit.”

Butters sniffed, clearly taken over by Stan’s words. “I want to go to the soup kitchen!” he cried, rubbing his eyes.

Kenny wasn’t so sure about whether Stan was pulling his leg or not. He had all the makings of a great missionary, which meant that somewhere there was a large stick up his ass. It might take some digging, but Kenny would find it. Sure, the guy came off as friendly and approachable, but was there anyone worth hanging out with that thought going to a soup kitchen on their day off was a good idea?

But really, what else were they going to do?

Stan got out his phone and opened the browser to look up some nearby soup kitchens they could scope out. “Hmmm…” he hummed, his brow furrowing. “There’s not much around here, but there’s a Jewish Family and Children Services that we can get to by bus. They have a food pantry, among other things.”

Kenny scrunched up his nose. “A Jewish center? Isn’t that like…. A conflict of interest? Stealing from another religion and all that?”

“Most of these programs aren’t secular,” Stan explained. “So no matter where we go, we’ll be talking to people from another religion. But as you know, because of the Great Apostacy, even those from other religions need to know the truth. They think they know but it’s our job to guide them in the right direction.”

“Oh yeah!” Butters chimed in. “We need to baptize them the right way! Full immersion!”

He and Stan gave each other a high five. Kenny was busy looking over Stan’s shoulder at the food pantry information. They wouldn’t be able to go inside the pantry without first conducting an interview, but they could at least tour the premises and check it out. It looked like the center focused a lot on counseling services and getting people back on their feet after a crisis. Still, it was worth a shot.

Stan shoved his phone in his pocket and stretched. “Okay guys. Get your bus passes and lets do this.”

\--

The Jewish Family and Children Services Center was in a nicer part of the county they weren’t used to. Here the sidewalks weren’t cracked and the lines in the roads were clearly visible. Kenny thought they would arrive at a run-down place with a line of homeless coming from every direction, but he couldn’t have been more misinformed. The towering multi-story building felt more like a library than anything else. It was in the middle of a school zone and a neighborhood, making it seem even more like a part of the neighborhood. As they made their way inside, the building felt more like an office than a help center.

A lady at the front desk smiled gracefully at them, beckoning for them to come over and check in with her first. Stan placed a hand out to keep Kenny and Butters from saying anything.

“Good morning, ma’am,” he began. “My name is Stan Marsh and I’m doing some research on what kind of help is available to the homeless and destitute of the city. Can we look around and talk to a few of your volunteers or staff?”

“Oh, well certainly! Just sign in here and leave your contact information!” She looked genuinely excited. “It’s so nice to see young people getting into the spirit of philanthropy. You’re more than welcome to volunteer here as well. We could always use the help.”

As the three of them signed in, the lady at the front desk told them to take a set of double doors to the right that would lead down a hall and into the food pantry where they could start their questions, and someone would be there to lead them around.

Stan thanked her and led the three of them to the doors. When they were out of earshot of the front desk, Kenny nudged Stan and hissed. “Why didn’t you just say we were from the LDS church?” Honestly, it didn’t matter to him either way, but even he thought it was a little underhanded to outright lie like that.

“Trust me,” Stan said. “We’re okay.”

“This place is really nice for… for a shelter,” Butters said nervously. He hung near Kenny, walking so close that they bumped shoulders more often than was necessary. He was so fidgety that Kenny wanted to reach down and take his hand just to keep him still.

“It’s not a shelter,” Stan explained. “The website said it was a help center and they offered counseling and other services. They just happen to have a food pantry too. Here.” He opened the door for them just as someone else opened the door from the other end. “Oh!”

Oh, indeed.

Stan kept walking through the doorway until he crashed into the person going the other way. A bright mop of red curly hair appeared in front of them as Stan stumbled and fell to the side.

“Woah!” the redhead cried out, trying to steady Stan at the last second, but the bigger boy must have been heavier than he anticipated, and he almost went down with him.

The world stood still for a second as Stan and the redheaded boy got their bearings. When Kenny stepped forward, offering to help either of them up, he stopped because Stan had stopped.

Stan was absolutely still, staring at the redheaded boy, no, young man, with wide eyes. He looked like he was about their age clad in a t-shirt with the center’s logo on it and a pair of jeans.

“Are you okay?” the redhead asked. His voice was breathy and light.

“Uh-huh,” Stan answered, swallowing so thickly his Adam’s apple bobbed. Kenny looked back and forth between the two of them. Something weird was happening.

Finally, it was the redhead who stood up first and offered a hand to Stan. Stan took it but his hand lingered a moment too long after he stood. He let go suddenly, when he seemed to remember what he was doing and hastily shoved his hands into his pockets. “You okay?” the stranger asked.

“I’m good. Yes. I’m fine. Thank you. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” the stranger said with a smile. “I’m Kyle. Who are you guys? New volunteers?”

“Uh….” Stan said intelligently. Really. It was like watching a train wreck. It was absolutely awful and yet Kenny couldn’t look away. If he didn’t think Stan was the absolute epitome of the Mormon missionary poster boy, he could have sworn Stan and Kyle were having a Moment ™.

“We’re doing a research project on pantries in the county. Can we get a tour?” Kenny said in Stan’s stead, since he seemed too star struck to do much of anything. “I’m Kenny, this is Butters and that’s Stan.”

Kyle held his hand back out for Stan to shake but Stan did a strange thing where he kind of smiled and waved instead and took a step back, as if touching Kyle now was a toxic thing to do. And so, because Kenny and Butters didn’t have their heads up their asses, they shook Kyle’s hand in turn.

Kyle led them through to the pantry. Kenny had been in his fair share of food pantries before, but this place looked like a veritable grocery store. He let out a long, low whistle as they walked around.

“This place sure is huge!” Butters said, admiring the cereal selection. “Where do you get it all?”

“Donations, mostly. But we have a few deals with some grocery stores around here. Expiration dates are a myth most of the time. And we get produce rejects. Look.” He led them to a crate of apples and picked one up. It was lopsided and discolored. “It’s still a good apple. It just doesn’t look pretty. Most grocery stores will only take picture perfect produce and discard the rest. That’s where we come in.”

“Oh cool….” Butters said in awe. He found a double-apple and held it up with a giggle. “Look. This one looks like a butt.”

Kyle rolled his eyes. “We get that a lot. Trust me. Butt apples taste just as good as regular apples.”

It took everything in Kenny’s soul not to tell a joke about Kyle eating ass in that moment. He figured he could go to heaven alone just for holding himself back.

“What about the meat?” Stan asked. Kyle turned his attention to the other missionary and soon they were lost in a conversation that didn’t stay on meat for very long. Kenny found himself wandering off to go look at the rows of canned goods and wondered if he could find anything years passed its expiration date.

He was turning over a can of garbanzo beans when Butters appeared next to him, taking a similar can and turning it over in his hands. “This is bigger than the Bishop’s storehouse,” he said.

“Mm,” Kenny agreed, setting down the can. It wasn’t expired.

“I don’t think anyone here will want to go to our church if this place serves them better,” Butters continued. “We should have gone somewhere else.”

“Well, now we know,” Kenny said. He looked up to try and locate where Stan and Kyle were. They were still deep in conversation, with Stan laughing at something Kyle said and Kyle grinning fiercely. “Those two seem to be getting along… a little too well.”

“Hee, yeah,” Butters giggled. He inched closer to Stan. “He knocked Stan speechless. Did you see that?”

Kenny brightened. “I did! He was starstruck, dude.”

Butters’ face softened as he watched the two interact. “If Stan weren’t a missionary, I would think they got hit by Cupid’s arrow, you know?”

“Who’s to say they didn’t?”

Butters turned a little pink as he turned his eyes down at the can of beans he was holding. “Well… well, missionaries can’t be gay. They just can’t.”

“The church doesn’t want them to be gay. It doesn’t want anyone to be gay. But it can still happen,” Kenny said.

“I know,” Butters said quietly. “You have to ignore feelings like that. It’s just Satan trying to get in and warp your mind. Stan just needs to listen to that still small voice and he’ll be back on the right path.” There was something to Butters’ tone that sounded sad.

Kenny glanced at Butters. He was staring so intently at the nutrition facts on the back of the can of beans but he knew he wasn’t reading a word of it. “Do you speak from experience?”

“Wh-what?!” Butters stammered, nearly dropping the can. He placed it back on the stack and put his hands to his cheeks, probably trying to gauge how hot they were. “N… no! I just… I only meant that…”

Kenny chuckled. “It’s okay, Leo.” He reached up to take a hold of Butters’ wrists to pull his hands from his face. “I’ve had to battle with that still small voice a couple of times.”

Butters chanced a glance up at Kenny. “You have?”

“Yeah,” Kenny smiled. “I think that voice is mad at me. I don’t listen very well.”

“Well… well what does it say?”

“It tells me to keep my hands and eyes to myself but mostly it tells me to shut up. Kind of like right now actually.” He was still holding onto Butters’ wrists, but the other boy didn’t even seem to notice. His gaze was so intent on Kenny’s that it made Kenny feel vulnerable, like Butters were trying to dig something out of him. For all Kenny knew, he could. The part of Kenny that loved freely wasn’t supposed to be a deep, dark secret. He wanted very much to wear it on his sleeve and the stifling rules of LDS life made it difficult. He needed an outlet, at least some of the time. Even “relaxing” at the apartment wasn’t enough. And now he was spending his free day at a food pantry from another religion. If Kenny didn’t get a taste of the secular life and soon, he was going to crack. “What does yours tell you to do?”

“Um….” Butters turned an even darker shade of pink. “The same thing, really.” He turned his wrists in Kenny’s hands and slide his hands free just enough to hold onto Kenny’s hands. Their palms touched. Butters’ hands were so gentle and soft, and his grip was sure enough that Kenny knew there had to be something more involved. Something hidden but trying to fight its way to be seen. He squeezed back. Butters laughed suddenly, just a puff of air, as he pulled his hands free and began to wring them in front of him. “See? I don’t listen very well, either.”

Something in Kenny’s chest twisted and his heartbeat quickened. What Butters said could mean a lot of things and Kenny wanted all of them to be true. Up until that point, his little crush was just that. A crush. Unrequited and yet familiar. He’d lived with crushes like that his whole life, never allowed to act on them and only allowed to ogle from a distance. He wouldn’t have been content to stay like that forever, but he knew he would have been able to tolerate it… at least until his mission was over and he set up shop in a strip club and never left until his brain was a pile of mush and slid out his ear.

“What if that still small voice is wrong?” Kenny said suddenly.

Butters gasped. “That’s the Holy Spirit, Kenny. It can’t be wrong.”

“Is it, though?”

Butters took a step back. “Heavenly Father intended for man and woman to be together. That’s the truth. Families will be together forever. Husbands and Wives get sealed together in the Temple. You can’t be sealed to another man. That’s not how it works.”

Kenny gestured to Stan and Kyle a few aisles away. They somehow migrated back to the produce. “Look at those two and tell me something that wholesome is Satan’s doing. I bet if they pooled their resources, they could feed like a bazillion poor people.”

“As friends,” Butters corrected. “Best friends.”

Kyle was now putting his number into Stan’s missionary phone.

“Yeah,” Kenny mused. “Super best friends.” He should have known that Butters would stay on the safe side. It was better that way, anyway even though it absolutely sucked. “Is that what we are, then? Best friends?”

“Well… well yeah,” Butters said. “I thought that was obvious. I really like you, Kenny. And… and I want us to be friends even after our mission.”

Kenny exhaled loudly and nodded. It wasn’t right to ask Butters to break years and years of social upbringing in one day. If there was any indication that Butters would ever be interested in Kenny outside of friendship, it was likely all in Kenny’s mind. And wasn’t that typical of him? He thought everyone was cute. Hell, Kyle was cute. Kenny wanted to reach out and see if his curls bounced. It wouldn’t be fair to the world if only one person had Kenny McCormick. He was there to be shared.

And yet.

There was something about Butters that brought out Kenny’s protective instincts. The other missionary was sheltered, and Kenny wanted to keep him that way. His innocence and naivete were what made him so likable and Kenny was selfish and wanted to keep those smiles for himself.

It wasn’t fair. If he met Butters under any other circumstance, he’d flirt his way right into Butters pants, set up camp, and stay there. But there were all these rules in place. Cockblocking rules. Kenny would have to accept that he’d never get what he wanted, that he’d have to give up the ghost and accept defeat in this case. There would be other fish in the sea. Someone else would come along and nibble and Kenny would simply look back on this and say, “Hey, remember when I wanted to bone my mission partner? Those were the days…”

So instead of lightening the mood with a joke about wanting to be more than friends, Kenny listened to that annoying still, small voice and said. “Yeah. I would like that. Best friends.”

A moment later Kyle and Stan joined them. Stan went on and on about the center, but Kenny’s heart wasn’t hearing any of it. He was tired and all he wanted to do was to go home and nap. Stan could do his weird religion stealing tactic without him.

In the end, they managed to talk to a few people who came into the food pantry for supplies. Butters handed over a pamphlet to all of them.

It didn’t matter, Kenny thought. None of it mattered. All of these people were going to die sinners—just like him.


	7. Chapter 7

Kenny had a problem.

A blonde-haired blue-eyed problem with a scar over his left eye and skin pale enough to burn on an overcast day.

It must have been the proximity, or the fact that Kenny was reminded every day how much he was sinning just from thinking about his mission partner. Somehow that made the whole idea more enticing, more forbidden. And really, it wasn’t fair to Butters if Kenny ruined his life by saying something about it when Kenny was pretty sure if he noped off the face of the planet, eventually he’d get over this crush.

Because that’s all it was, right? A little thump of the heart, the need to feel wanted and accepted, the need to have human contact that wasn’t a handshake… Kenny was human and he had _needs_ and those needs seemed to scream a little louder than literally everyone else he knew.

After he and Butters had their heart-to-heart at the Jewish Family and Children Services Center Kenny figured they would drift apart and if anything, become even more platonic. But no. Butters had established that he and Kenny were best friends and best friends to Butters meant something entirely different than Kenny’s definition.

In fact, Kenny wasn’t really sure what his definition was, but it certainly didn’t include holding hands as they walked or hugs good morning. He enjoyed the contact immensely, but it did very little to squash back the unwarranted feelings. Why did he have to catch feelings for his mission partner of all people? If only Kenny could rewind and get someone boring like Scott Malkinson.

Well, no, that wasn’t a good idea, either, because Kenny would get himself purposely kicked out from sheer boredom. Butters was keeping him in this game just so they could be together… and also so he didn’t disappoint his family. Plus, there was always the possibility of coming home to scholarships to Brigham Young University where he could try to dig himself out of the poverty hole.

So he grinned and bore it. And if he enjoyed it secretly… well, that was his own guilty pleasure.

It wasn’t all repressed feelings and nights of frustration. Butters also began opening up to Kenny more about some of the things that bothered him. Once, when they were having breakfast and Butters ate the last of the cereal, he was so consumed with guilt that he began to cry as he apologized to Kenny.

Kenny had been dumbstruck, unsure of what to do except to pull the other into his arms and stroke his hair until he stopped sobbing. Of course, he did none of that. He only stared and thought it, wished it, willed it into existence. Instead he said, “It’s okay. I’ll have oatmeal.” Then he went to make himself a bowl.

As he used the last of the milk to make his oatmeal, he tried to lessen Butters’ grief by holding up the empty container. “See?” he had said, “I used the last of the milk. We’re even.”

Butters sniffed and his tears began to dry up. “I’m real sorry, Kenny,” he started, idly swirling his cereal around in his bowl with his spoon. “Back at home I wasn’t allowed to finish something off. If I saw I was near empty, I would have to tell my parents and they got the last bit until we went grocery shopping again.”

Kenny stared at him. “That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard,” Kenny said, because it was.

Butters only shrugged. “It was pretty light considering what else they used to do.”

That statement made Kenny’s eyes widen. If his parents were that strict about something as trivial as breakfast cereal, what else were they capable of? Just how much of Butters’ life did they make miserable? The more time he spent away from them, the more he seemed to relax. He no longer freaked out about dishes the way he used to, so that was a start. 

“Leo… what did they do to you?”

“I was a bad kid. I got grounded a lot… so I probably deserved it.”

Kenny’s blood began to boil. “Leo, you’re the kindest, most considerate person I’ve ever met. I can’t imagine you getting in trouble for anything.” He was brave enough then to take a chair and swing it around backwards close to Butters and sit, his legs spread open on either side of it. “Sounds like you got the short end of the stick when it came to parents. But you’re an adult, now. They can’t control you anymore.”

“They could stop sending me money,” Butters hiccupped. “When mom writes she says she’s proud of me but if she only knew how bad of a missionary I am… well, I reckon she could ground me all the way from there.”

“Then we’ll baptize someone, but don’t do it for them. Do it for you,” Kenny offered. 

Either way, Kenny had a reason to try harder. He wanted to do it for Butters. He needed a win in his life and Kenny was going to give it to him. The only problem was he was already being wrung out and he knew if he didn’t get a break soon, he would snap from being wound too tight.

\---

After that, missionary work became routine and almost robotic. They found more people willing to start investigating the church and even brought one old lady to church with them on Sunday. She sat willingly through Gospel Principles class with them. It was a start. The rest of the time they went over the Plan of Salvation in people’s homes, trying their hardest not to scare them away.

Mondays were still the best in Kenny’s opinion. Any excuse not to wear the uncomfortable professional clothing and irritating shoes was okay by him. That, and whenever they went over to the Tweak’s house, they could be guaranteed a hot meal and a board game with more than two people.

One Monday Brother Tweak didn’t come pick them up and instead they were greeted with a text by Tweek saying that his parents were away at a conference but if they wanted to come over anyway, Tweek would enjoy the company. Only the texted wasn’t worded so nicely and was riddled with emojis, but Kenny appreciated it all the same.

There wasn’t any harm in going over to Tweek’s house. Without Brother and Sister Tweak there to police them, they wouldn’t have to have a lesson or pray or even wear their uniforms.

Butters was hesitant at first, citing that if Brother and Sister Tweak came home early, they could get into a lot of trouble, but Kenny assured him that if anything, they would like the idea that his son had thought to invite missionaries over.

But when Kenny and Butters arrived at Tweek’s house, there was an unfamiliar car parked in the driveway. Confused, Kenny knocked on the door and exchanged a curious glance with Butters as they waited.

There was the sound of laughter and footsteps as the door handle moved and Tweek appeared, rosy cheeked and giggling. “You made it!” he exclaimed, looking very much unlike himself. He wasn’t twitching nearly as bad and his shirt was buttoned up the right way. He moved aside to let the missionaries in.

Butters huddled close behind Kenny as they immediately skipped the living room and moved down the hall toward Tweek’s room. “I’m so glad you could make it,” Tweek called behind him. “I noticed you seemed kind of uptight the last few game nights and figured you could ah… uh relax a little bit.” Then he kind of paused and twitched for the first time that night. “But don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“Dude,” Kenny held a hand up, already loving this turn of events. “Not a soul.” 

“Kenny….” Butters stammered from behind him, the worry in his voice evident. “What’s going on?”

“Fun is going on,” Kenny said with a grin.

Tweek opened the door and the smell of fresh coffee hit Kenny first, followed by the sound of laughter. Sitting on Tweek’s bed were two boys, a brunette with a Starbucks cup in his hand and a relaxed, casual look in his eye and a black boy lounging back, his eye catching the door as it opened. Craig sat on the floor against the bed, a controller in his hand as he played some kind of video game.

“Oh hey guys,” Craig deadpanned, barely looking up from the game. “You came.”

The two boys on the bed eyed Kenny and Butters with interest.

“So um… that’s Clyde and that’s Token,” Tweek said, pointing each boy out. “And you already know Craig. Guys. These are friends from church but they’re cool, promise. This is uh… Kenny and Butters.” It felt strange to hear their real names spoken by Tweek. They’d told him a while back but during church and around his parents, he always called them Elder McCormick and Elder Stotch. Of course, it would be weird as hell to be elders, now. These guys were normal—relatively speaking. Kenny didn’t know them well enough to vouch for them, but in this case assuming wouldn’t be too far off, probably.

“Yo,” Kenny said, giving them both the benefit of the doubt and a short wave.

“Heeeeey,” the one named Clyde said easily. “We’re just watching Craig lose all his horses in Breath of the Wild and we ordered some pizza.”

Pizza. Kenny hadn’t had the stuff in so long his stomach growled just thinking about it. He could hear Butters make a cute noise of anticipation behind him and he smiled. 

They weren’t allowed to play video games or watch movies. Kenny never thought he would be in a situation where having a normal existence was so vehemently against the rules. Any other 19 year old would be doing this on any given day without a care in the world.

‘A missionary was closer to Heavenly Father,’ his ass. Kenny had never felt further away from Him.

As Kenny crossed the threshold into Tweek’s room, he felt a hand on his upper arm and he turned to see Butters looking undecided.

“Kenny, can we talk for a minute?” he asked carefully.

Kenny looked back and forth between Butters and the rest of the guys and nodded. “We’ll be right back,” he said to the others and disappeared outside Tweek’s room. Butters led them to the living room where he began to pace.

“We can get in so much trouble,” he said.

“Butters, we’ve been cooped up in that apartment for so long… and our only outlet is going around talking to people about the same thing day in and day out. We deserve this.”

“But—”

“It’s only for a few hours,” Kenny said, well aware that he was tempting Butters, but he couldn’t help himself. “This is like… an oasis in the desert of missionary work, man. Just be yourself.”

And then Butters looked up directly into Kenny’s eyes, his hands pressing themselves into each other at his chest. “But I’ve never had this before. My life has always been like this. I don’t know what to do.”

Kenny’s heart went out to Butters in that moment. He knew his parents kept him sheltered but he hadn’t realized just how much. Kenny had a few friends he fucked around with back at school who didn’t seem to care he was stuck in an uptight religion. It seemed Tweek was in the same boat so he could relate. This wasn’t that different than what he used to do, the only difference was that now he had an outside obligation that prevented him from having any fun.

“It’s not so bad, Leo. Don’t think too much about it and you’ll fit right in.” Kenny gave Butters a friendly pat on the shoulder and Butters reached up to hold Kenny’s hand there, thumb ever so lightly brushing against his skin.

“I’ll do my best.”

“That’s the spirit,” Kenny said, pulling his hand away with a thick swallow.

When they went back to the room it was Butters who spoke up first. “Well, hey, fellas. I’m awful sorry about that. We just had to deal with some business. What kind of game is Wild Breath?”

“It’s Breath of the Wild,” Token corrected. “It’s a Zelda game.”

Butters stared.

“You’ve never heard of The Legend of Zelda?”

Butters began to turn a bright red and Kenny knew it was because he didn’t want to talk about the reason for that so he stepped in. “All the more reason to show him why it’s so awesome.” Kenny was more of a PlayStation guy himself but he could appreciate the appeal of the Switch. It was awesome and not at all what he could afford.

Token moved over to sit next to Clyde so that Kenny and Butters could have some room on the couch. Tweek was seated on the floor next to Craig, their shoulders touching to the point that Kenny could tell Tweek was unnecessarily leaning onto Craig. He found himself staring at the action—so small and almost unnoticeable and yet he couldn’t tear his eyes away from it. A sort of yearning began to pool in his stomach, and he glanced sidelong at Butters whose eyes hadn’t budged from the television screen.

After Craig died for the umpteenth time, he angrily switched off the game. “When I play too long my eyes start to hurt,” he complained.

“Excuses!” Clyde exclaimed, aiming one of Tweek’s stuffed animals—a dolphin—at Craig’s head.

Suddenly the doorbell rang and Craig grinned. Kenny was suddenly aware of it being the first time he saw Craig genuinely smile. “Nah, it was my sixth sense. Pizza’s here.”

Without him even needing to ask, Craig took the money from Tweek and left to go pay which led Kenny to wonder just how often this happened. Tweek carefully put away the controllers for the Switch and grabbed a remote, switching the TV to another HDMI input. By the time Craig came back with the pizzas, Tweek was putting in a DVD.

The smell of the pizzas hit Kenny like a Mack truck. He hadn’t smelled something so heavenly in what felt like years. It was all he could do not to rip a box from Craig’s hands and devour it whole, cardboard and all. He looked to Butters. “Aren’t you glad we stayed, now?”

“Pizza…” Butters answered, clearly salivating. 

“Careful, your pizza boner is showing.”

“K-Kenny!”

Kenny just laughed, mentally giving himself a point for making Butters blush again.

“Hope you like bacon and sausage,” Tweek said, opening a box. “I didn’t know what you liked so I panicked when I ordered online. Argh! I’m sorry if you hate it!”

“No, no! It smells amazing. I love any kind of pizza, promise.” Kenny held up a hand to show how serious he was. Craig granted him with a slice of his own and Kenny brought it to his nose for a decadent sniff before finally taking a glorious bite.

It was like he’d died and gone to ten different Celestial Kingdoms. The Plan of Salvation had nothing on the taste of a good Italian sausage.

“So…. Good,” Kenny moaned, leaning back on the bed until his back hit the wall. He stayed like that a moment, eyes closed, chewing happily. He could feel movement and then Butters was next to him and seated the same way.

“Damn,” Clyde whistled. “I had no idea you guys were going to have an orgasm over pizza.”

Kenny opened his eyes and laughed. Butters stammered.

“My O-face looks way better than this,” Kenny teased, feeling months of pent up Kenny-ness coming out all at once. “Too bad you’ll never get to see it.”

“Oh my god,” Clyde chuckled. “You’re seriously the best missionary I’ve ever met. Or the worst.”

“Oh, I’m definitely the worst.”

Token was just finishing up his piece of pizza and was about to take a second. “So why did you guys decide to become one if it sucks so bad?”

“Uh,” Kenny began. He’d been blind-sided by the million-dollar question. He had to think of something that would make sense and fast. Frantically his eyes searched the room for ideas and that’s when he spotted Tweek and Craig. Tweek had a bit of tomato sauce on his chin and Craig casually swiped it away with his thumb before licking it off the digit. Again, the move was so fluid and natural that Kenny had to stare all over again. Maybe the truth was best. “I had a crush on a friend in seminary and thought we would be paired together.”

Clyde, Token and Craig burst into laughter. Tweek looked at him with wide eyes and Butters made a small gasp beside him.

Kenny shrugged. “Bit of a shock when I found out we were going to be separated by thousands of miles, but I’m over it. Now I stay for all the perks.” The heavy sarcasm in his voice was clearly evident.

“You really are the worst missionary,” Token said when his laughter subsided.

“But Leo here is the best,” Kenny said, nudging Butters. “And he has to put up with my lame ass day in and day out. I’m surprised he hasn’t requested a transfer.”

Butters squeaked beside him. “Well that’s because we’re friends.”

Kenny turned to Butters and there was a spot of tomato sauce on his chin. What he wouldn’t give to mirror Tweek and Craig and get rid of it with his thumb. “I’m holding you back and we both know it,” Kenny said softly.

“You’re not holding me back,” Butters replied. “I want you for a mission partner, no one else.”

“Even if I got into this mess for all the wrong reasons?”

Butters was quiet for a half a second before he looked up at Kenny. “Are you in it for all the right reasons now?”

Kenny paused and met Butters’ eyes. He traced the aquamarine over with his own. His chest soared for this precious, innocent boy who cried when he finished the cereal first and thought being best friends gave him hand-holding rights, who let the top of his hair grow beyond recommended missionary length until Kenny felt he was sticking it to the President of the Church without even realizing it, who double-knotted his shoes and sang while he showered, who made Kenny feel like he’d developed a savior complex because he wanted to don a cape and fight all of Butters’ demons for him.

“No,” Kenny answered truthfully. “No, I’m not.”

Pink flowed across Butter’s cheeks until it reached his ears and he averted his gaze. “O-oh…”

The room was quiet until Clyde whispered, “Gaaaaaay.” He was promptly shoved against the headboard by Token.

Tweek was silent as he looked between Kenny and Butters. Slowly, his features changed as a smile developed—small at first, and then meaningful. It was to his credit that he didn’t say anything except, “Does anyone want to watch Spider-Man: Homecoming?” The decision was unanimous and as the DVD began to play, everyone settled in with their pizza and promptly forgot all about what just happened.

Everyone, it seemed, except for Kenny, who was now very aware of every movement Butters made, even the way he breathed. It seemed like the others had already seen this movie and had taken it upon themselves to comment on every interaction but it was new to Kenny so it was easy to push the proximity of Butters aside in favor of Tom Holland and Zendaya, at least for a little bit.

They had way too many slices of pizza between them. Kenny was so starved for the taste that he even ate the crust. By the middle of the movie he was bloated and comfortable, head leaning against the wall and feeling content. A moment of sheer comedy caused the whole room to laugh at the movie and instinctively Kenny turned to Butters to laugh with him only to find Butters already looking at him. They exchanged a smile and just as Kenny turned back to the movie, he felt the tiniest brush against his hand as Butters linked their pinky fingers together. 

This was different than they way they held hands before, palms cupped against each other as Butters pulled him down the sidewalk, or when they looped arms when they had to stand on the bus because Butters claimed he was afraid they would separate. The surface area was so much less but somehow it felt more intimate and private. Their hands were at their sides, hidden from view of the others. Kenny tightened his pinky around Butters’ and chanced a look in his direction.

Butters was looking at the television screen intently, a serious look on his face. Kenny wondered if he was even watching the movie at all. Gears, practically visible, turned in Butters’ head.

Their hands stayed like that for the entirety of the movie, even though Kenny’s own hand began to feel clammy and warm between them, he refused to pull it away until the lights came back on.

“My parents should be home soon,” Tweek announced, glancing at his phone. “Can someone take home a pizza box and all the coffee cups? I don’t want my parents seeing it all.”

“No prob, man,” Token said, already grabbing a box. There were a few pieces left over and Kenny wanted desperately to take them home with him.

Kenny got up and stretched, already feeling cold and awkward without his hand looped with Butters. It seemed his mission partner didn’t want to look at him which only made things worse. Kenny sighed and looked at the mission phone for the time. “Oh… man, yeah, we gotta go before we miss the last bus.”

“Dude, I’ll take you home,” Token chimed in. “It’s much faster than a bus anyway.”

“Thanks, man,” Kenny said appreciatively. “You don’t have to.”

“You guys are cool. It’s no big deal.”

Clyde snickered. “He only wants to show off his car. His parents are loaded.”

Token rolled his eyes. “Ha ha. I don’t always have to have an ulterior motive. Besides, you like riding in that car, too.”

Clyde snapped his fingers and pointed at Token. “You bet your ass I do. I call shotgun.”

Together Clyde and Token picked up the coffee and pizza trash and made their way for the door. Kenny was about to follow them with Butters when Tweek stopped them a moment. “If… if you ever want a chance to be yourselves or um… to just be you…” His eyes moved back and forth between Kenny and Butters with a knowing look. “You can always come here. I’ll cover for you.”

“Yeah,” Craig chimed in. “If there’s one thing Tweek can do well, it’s act.”

“Only one thing, Craig?”

“Sorry, babe, two things. You make a mean cupcake.”

Tweek laughed at that and pretended to kick Craig in the shin with his foot. He must not have even caught the pet name because he didn’t even acknowledge it. The thought that had been festering in the back of Kenny’s mind all night came to the surface, now. There was no doubt about it. Craig didn’t just come to Tweek’s house during family nights because they were best friends. There was something more, here, and Craig supported Tweek no matter what. It made Kenny incredibly envious. 

It was Butters who acknowledged the elephant in the room. “But Tweek… if you do all of these things behind your parents’ backs… don’t you feel, you know… _wrong_?”

Tweek shook his head. “I did at first. But when I found out that the only time I’m calm is on nights like this… then maybe Heavenly Father is trying to tell me something.”

“Like what?” Butters was eating up Tweek’s words.

“That maybe Joseph Smith made up a bunch of stuff to control people and the real Heavenly Father would want us to be happy. Not trapped. When I move out I’ll tell my parents. But not while I still depend on them.”

Butters remained quiet after that. Kenny just gave a low whistle and said, “Daaaang.” Tweek’s philosophy made the most sense out of everyone he’d ever met. There were pieces to the doctrine that Kenny wanted to be true, but it was all the stuff in between that made him angry. Like how the Pearl of Great Price and the Doctrine and Covenants outlined all kinds of rules Joseph Smith said the Lord relayed to him after he was shown the golden plates. He believed the Book of Mormon to be true because there was no way a guy with a 6th grade education and three months could have written that entire book just by speaking it out loud in translation. But that was it. There were extra books to the Bible… not a whole new set of rules like a second Leviticus. It was just as bad as the Catholic Dogma—man creating rules to suit the needs of the time. 

Tweek was so much more aware than Kenny realized. Maybe he didn’t become a missionary because he refused and not because of his health. He saw the world in a way Kenny should have.

It was a lot to think about.

Kenny and Butters were both quiet at first on the ride home, with Kenny joining in Token and Clyde’s conversation only when prompted. He learned that the two of them had been friends with Tweek and Craig for a long time and that they vowed to stick by Tweek’s side when his parents suddenly converted. Only now they called themselves distributers of Mormon contraband considering they were the only way Tweek could get his coffee fix. They were veterans at corruption and if Kenny or Butters needed them to get anything for them, just to let them know.

As much as Kenny would have liked a television with cable, he settled with getting some updated comic books and Butters, much to Kenny’s surprise, demanded a book he’d always wanted to read—and it had nothing to do with the doctrine. Kenny was proud of him.

“Books?” Clyde asked after he’d put the notes into his phone. “That’s so fuckin’ lame, man.”

“It’s the little things I miss most,” Kenny said by way of explanation. “That and books are easier to hide.”

“Dude, it’s like _Fahrenheit 451_ ,” Token said which caused the rest of the car to groan.

By the time Token pulled up to the apartment it was like the four of them had been friends this whole time. Token and Clyde made life bearable for a few hours and for that Kenny was incredibly thankful. They promised to have the contraband to them as soon as possible and as they waved the two boys off, Kenny and Butters found themselves finally alone in front of the apartment building holding a pizza box filled with leftovers.

Not wanting to make things awkward, Kenny turned to go inside. “I liked those guys,” he said, clearing the air of any weird conversation. “They’re cool.”

“Yeah…” Butters agreed. “I mean they made fun of everyone a lot but it didn’t feel awful at all.”

“You used to getting made fun of or something?” Kenny asked, an eyebrow raising as he opened the door for Butters.

“You always make it sound like my life was so awful.”

“No offense but it kind of sounds like it. Who the hell would make fun of you? You’re like, the nicest dude I know. And you’re adorable. And the best part is that you don’t even know it.”

“I mean… well… it has gotten a lot better lately.”

“See?” Kenny nudged him, now getting the keys to their apartment as they walked through the halls. “High School is totally the worst. Everyone kind of grows up afterward. But now you have me… and Tweek and Craig and the others. We’ll still keep in touch after this is all over and we go back home. I promise.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought about that…” Butter said quietly. “About going home and never seeing you again.”

“S’why we gotta live in the present,” Kenny pointed out. “Or else we’ll look back and remind ourselves of all the stuff we didn’t do. Like, imagine we didn’t stay at Tweek’s house and went home instead. We wouldn’t have had the chance to gorge ourselves on pizza or get caught up on Spider-man. I wouldn’t have been able to hear you genuinely laugh. We would have been stuck on a bus, bored out of our minds. Now we have a story to tell.”

“Tonight _was_ some of the most fun I’ve had all mission,” Butters admitted once they were back in the safety of their own apartment. He took off his shoes and set the pizza box down on the counter. “I thought about what Tweek said… about being miserable and I’ve been thinking that Heavenly Father should want his children to be happy so long as we’re not hurting anyone. I want to be happy, Kenny. I really do.”

“Then be happy!” Kenny exclaimed, his arms raising themselves into the air to indicate the importance of his statement. “You’re technically an adult, now. You should be in charge of your own happiness.” Really, Kenny should be taking his own advice, but he wasn’t going to get into that at the moment. “What do you want to do? What would make you happy?”

“Well,” Butters began. He pressed his fingers together in front of his chest again and looked down at them as he fidgeted. “You make me happy.”

The words flew around Kenny’s head like those cartoon birds and stars until they settled into his hair and into his skull and into his soul. He wanted them to have all the weight in the world pressed into them until he was squashed into the ground and wouldn’t get up again until more words pulled him up and out of the ground and into the sun. “If I make you happy… then why aren’t you?”

Butters stared at his shoes and didn’t answer his question. “Kenny… you said today that you were staying here for all the wrong reasons, right?”

“I remember.”

“What are those reasons? Can I ask?”

Kenny swallowed thickly and could feel his ears getting hot. When he had longer hair he could just hide behind it, but now he felt raw and exposed. “I’m staying for someone.”

“For your parents?”

Kenny shook his head. “More selfish than that.”

“What if my happiness and your reason for staying are the same thing?”

Kenny knew exactly what Butters was saying in that moment but he needed clarification, something to tell him that he wasn’t imagining the moment and he would wake up any second in his room as his alarm went off for another day knocking on doors. “What are you saying?”

“I…” And then Butters broke, shaking his head as his voice cracked. He pushed past Kenny. “Nevermind. It’s so silly. I reckon it’s the silliest thing I’ve ever thought of. I should go to bed. It’s late.” His words poured out of him as he stalked across the apartment to his room and shut the door without so much as a goodnight. Kenny was left staring at it, dumbfounded.

He figured he should have been upset that Butters didn’t want to talk about it. He figured he should at least try to go after him and clear the air between them. But Kenny did none of that. Instead, a huge smile wound its way across his face and he did a silent dance in the kitchen. Butters was being so incredibly obvious that Kenny had to pinch himself. The pinky holding, the longing glances, the quiet nights…. Butters was having a crisis and unlike Kenny, he couldn’t admit it to himself.

As Kenny opened the fridge and put the pizza box inside, the grin never left his face. Oh, this changed everything. Before he felt like he had to hold back for Butters’ sake and keep their relationship platonic, but now that Kenny knew he had even the slightest chance, he was going to jump all over it like a kid in a snow drift.

The game was on.


	8. Chapter 8

Instead of waking with the usual dread at starting another monotonous routine, the next morning Kenny’s eyes shot open as an excited painted itself across his face. He quickly got dressed and launched himself from his room, singing off-key in a lilting voice. “Oh Leoooo~!”

Soft scuffling noises could be heard coming from Butters’ room and soon the door opened to reveal a groggy, puffy eyed missionary. “You’re up early,” he commented, his voice hoarse and raspy from sleep. Kenny didn’t get to hear that voice much and he found it absolutely glorious.

“Another day another convert. Come, Leo.” He threw his arms open wide, anticipating their morning hug now more than ever. Butters looked Kenny up and down, now suddenly too shy to go over and hug him. Kenny rolled his eyes at how ridiculous Butters was acting and closed the distance between them, throwing his arms around him anyway. The hug wasn’t intimate by any means. Kenny’s plan was to start small and work his way up, but as his nose brushed against the side of Butters’ head, he caught the scent of his shampoo from the night before and so he lingered there far longer than necessary. “Your hair smells nice.”

“Does it? Well um… well I guess yours smells nice, too.”

“It better. I used your shampoo.” Kenny pulled away, beaming. He could see Butters physically attempting to seem normal. “Okay buddy,” Kenny said, clapping Butters on the shoulder. “Breakfast time.”

All throughout the day Kenny did his best to sit as close to Butters as possible and it was he who initiated any hand holding. Usually it was Butters pulling Kenny along, but this time Kenny linked their fingers together as they rode the bus. Butters pulled his hand away and wrung his fingers together nervously as his eyes searched the bus for anyone who might have seen.

Butters hadn’t been so uptight about it, before. When they were purely platonic friends he’d been eager to hold onto Kenny, but ever since last night’s conversation caution surrounded him at every angle.

Really, it only solidified Kenny’s hunch that Butters was into him. After all, who _wouldn’t_ be into him? Kenny had seen himself in the mirror. He had a natural charm that clearly anyone who was anyone would want to tap.

Even when they went to visit Liane and give her some more lessons about the history of the church and the Great Apostacy, he tried to huddle close to Butters until Liane decided she was going to sit in between the missionaries as they gave her lessons, her excuse being that she needed to hear the gospel from all sides.

Liane herself claimed she was ready to start going to church, much to Kenny’s and Butters’ delight. They promised to meet her outside the doors and get her acquainted with significant members of the congregation.

“Are all Mormons as nice as you two?” Liane asked.

“The nicest,” Butters chimed happily as he sipped the hot cocoa Liane always prepared for them. “You’ll shake so many hands you’ll get dizzy.”

“And are there more missionaries like you?”

“We have some mentors,” Kenny said. “Two missionaries from another ward come to check up on us every so often.”

“Oh my,” Liane breathed in a way that didn’t hide her excitement at all.

The world was full of sin and it was Kenny’s duty to accept it and make it work for him.

As they left Liane’s home and made their way back to the apartment, they stopped by a farmer’s market to pick up a few well-priced vegetables. Butters was in such a good mood from hearing Liane wanted to go to church that he had volunteered to make a warm meal that night: chicken stir fry, minus the chicken, because meat was expensive.

Kenny offered to carry a bag, but Butters wouldn’t have it, so they shared the load, walking the rest of the way home, each taking on half the burden. Butters passed the time by hopping over cracks on the uneven sidewalk, humming a church tune to himself. He seemed to have forgotten all about Kenny’s subtle advances. This was how Kenny liked Butters best: when he felt comfortable enough to be in his natural state—an optimistic and carefree soul.

“You know,” Kenny said, catching Butters’ attention. The blond turned around slightly and nearly tripped on a bit of sidewalk obviously pushed upward by a tree root. “This isn’t so bad when things actually go right.”

Butters grinned. “I know, right? Do you think Liane will get baptized?”

“I think so.”

“Her son doesn’t seem to like the idea, though. I don’t want to tear their family apart.”

It was true. Eric had walked in a couple of times on Kenny and Butters teaching his mother and he’d scowled, called them names, and stormed up to his room, slamming his door so fiercely the pictures rattled on the walls.

“Eric looks old enough to do what he wants. It shouldn’t matter what his mom decides. She’s her own person.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

Then they fell into a comfortable conversation all the way home, with Butters laughing at Kenny’s jokes when he would have blushed a few weeks ago. His shoulders weren’t tense anymore and he had a relaxed quality to him that made him all the more appealing.

Happy to be home, they changed out of their nice clothes so they wouldn’t get them dirty with cooking and Butters set about washing the vegetables and getting dinner prepared. Kenny hovered around the kitchen, wanting to help out just to give him something to do but Butters shooed him away with a wooden spoon. 

Kenny obliged, but only enough to grab a comic and sit down in the living room where he could watch as Butters sang a song and danced in front of the stove. His bottom swished this way and that in his jeans like a metronome, hypnotizing Kenny until the comic fell into his lap. The fact that Butters probably had no idea what he was doing made it all the more troublesome for Kenny who now felt like a voyeur.

The crisp smell of sautéed onions filled the air accompanied by the sounds of the rhythmic chopping of vegetables. Kenny floated to the kitchen, feeling like one of those cartoon characters following a smoky scent in the air. He stopped just behind Butters, peering over his shoulder.

“You’re making my stomach growl,” he said lowly.

Butters jumped, sending a piece of bell pepper flying onto the floor. “Kenny!” he exclaimed. “Not while I’m holding a knife!”

“Oh?” Kenny reached around Butters and slid the knife from his hand. “There. Now you’re not holding one. Can I talk to you now?”

Butters’ breathing became staggered as he alternated between holding his breath and letting it out slowly. Kenny was so close he could hear Butters swallow. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I want to help.” Oh, Kenny knew he was going to hell for this. But if he wasn’t forward in any way, then he and Butters would be stuck in a perpetual loop of awkward blushes and hiding boners which at this point, with Butters’ ass pressed up against him, Kenny had to think terrible thoughts to keep from having a growing problem. “Let me help.”

Butters squeaked. “Stir the onions!” he said a little too loudly. 

Kenny backed away and Butters relaxed. He took the wooden spoon from earlier and batted the onions around in the pan and when Butters finished chopping, he added the rest of the vegetables. Wordlessly, Butters took the bag of minute rice from the pantry and set about making some next to Kenny on the stove.

“See?” Kenny said. “So much faster when we work together.”

Butters didn’t say anything because he was biting his bottom lip.

“You know, you can sing and dance again. What was that song? I can join you.”

“You saw that?” Butters giggled a little, a nice change from him trying hard to keep himself stoic.

“How could I not?”

Butters kept giggling and he swayed a little as he stirred. “It was Book of Mormon Stories from primary.”

“Do you only know songs from church?”

“Pretty much. I mean I know a few from the radio. I’m not that sheltered.”

“I’m introducing you to real music,” Kenny said with a laugh.

“Curse words and all?”

“Curse words and all.”

“I’d like that. You keep me on my toes, Ken.” The addition of a new nickname was not lost on Kenny and he found himself grinning stupidly before he could stop himself. Butters nudged him with his hip. “Move over. I have to add some spices while the rice cooks.”

Kenny stood to the side and leaned backward against the counter, watching Butters cook. “Did you cook a lot at home?”

“Yeah, but it was never fun until now.”

“This is fun?” Kenny asked, faking the insinuation that he was bored.

Butters shrugged. “Well, I get to talk to you for one. And for another, I now have a taste tester.”

He freed a piece of pepper from the pan and blew on it gently before offering it to Kenny. “I don’t know how spicy you like things. Is this good?”

Kenny took the bite and the flavor was so enticing that he made a face very similar to when he’d had the pizza. “Oh my god,” he moaned. “I can’t wait to stuff my face.”

Butters giggled again, flushing with pride as he took the vegetables off the heat so they wouldn’t overcook. “There you go again.”

“What?” Kenny asked, his head tilting to the side.

“You always make me feel good about myself.”

“Damn Leo. That’s sad as hell. You have like a billion good qualities. Shut up.”

Butters stuck his tongue out at Kenny, who playfully returned the favor. Then he tried to sneak another bite of vegetable and Butters bapped his hand away. “Wait until the rice is done. Make yourself useful and set the table.”

Kenny did so and when Butters announced the rice was ready, he added it to the vegetable concoction and in seconds they had a delicious looking meal. “This looks amazing, Leo,” Kenny said truthfully.

“Thanks.” Butters grinned and served them both before sitting down. He reached across the table with his hands turned upwards and Kenny gladly reached back and took Butters’ hands in his own. Then he bowed his head and closed his eyes. “Dear Heavenly Father. Thank you for sending me the best missionary partner. One who finds the best in me. Please grant me the courage to Choose the Right and heal our minds and bodies. I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.”

“Amen,” Kenny echoed, giving Butters hands a squeeze. Then he gave Butters a smarmy smirk. “What’s with the heartfelt prayer tonight?”

“I just have a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

“You and me both,” Kenny admitted. But then he didn’t want to waste any more time and he dug into his meal. They ate in mostly silence, but that was because they were enjoying the food. Before Kenny knew it, everything in the pan had been eaten and he was leaning back in his chair, content, but still dreading the idea of doing the dishes.

In the end, he forced himself to get up and clear the table. “I’ve got dish duty,” he announced. “You cooked. I clean. That’s the deal.”

“You helped,” Butters pointed out. 

“Fine. I wash, you rinse,” Kenny replied. He wasn’t going to argue. And really, washing dishes with Butters was fun. He made sure to make the water as soapy as possible and blew bubbles at Butters until Butters got fed up and scooped a heap of foam and wiped it around Kenny’s face like a beard. They even sang Offenbach’s Can Can Music to each other to speed up the dish-washing process until they splashed water everywhere from the sheer mayhem of it all. For the icing on the cake, Kenny made a big deal of using Butters’ shirt as a towel to which Butters laughed and tried to run away.

Kenny chased him to the living room portion where Butters tried to hide behind the couch, but Kenny easily overpowered him by ruffling the hair on the top of his head. Butters launched himself over the arm of the couch, tackling Kenny down and rubbing his hands and forearms all over Kenny’s shirt and laughing as he called out, “Let’s see how you like it!”

The act seemed so innocent, but there Kenny was, pinned to the couch, his legs tangled up with Butters. There was no way to get out of the situation without there being some strange kind of Twister mess involved. His hands instinctively rested on Butters’ thin sides, modestly tugging down his shirt instead of doing what he actually wanted which was to feel the warm skin under his fingertips. Butters was so close. All Kenny had to do was pull his head down and kiss him. Would it be too much? Would Butters pull away out of embarrassment? Kenny didn’t want to break the moment at all by being too forward. Their dance was too delicate at this point, feelings or no feelings. 

Instead, what Kenny said was, “It didn’t work. Your hands are already dry.”

Butters pouted and placed his hands on Kenny’s chest. He made no move to get up. Instead, he lowered his head and turned it so that his cheek rested on the backs of his hands. The result was Butters’ chest becoming flush with Kenny’s stomach. “That’s fine. You’ll just have to face the wrath of my cold shirt.”

Indeed, Butters’ shirt was wet and the squishy feeling between the two of them was unsettling, but Kenny didn’t mind. Still, he pretended like it bothered him by wiggling around on the couch. “You’re cold! That’s not fair!”

“But you’re warm.”

“Then I’ll keep you warm.” Kenny stopped pretending to struggle as he looked down at Butters. He smelled of stir fry and the dish soap and so very much like Butters that Kenny wanted to drink him in. He allowed his arms to snake around Butters’ middle and they stayed like that for an indeterminable amount of time, Kenny simply holding Butters close to him. In that moment, it didn’t matter what their relationship was or if this was Butters admitting that he wanted to be close to Kenny. All that counted was that Kenny didn’t have to imagine something like this anymore. This was really happening, and he knew it was going to ingrain itself into his mind for a long time, regardless of how their relationship progressed from that point forward.

Butters hummed against Kenny’s chest, sending electric shocks all throughout Kenny’s nervous system. “Thank you, Ken.”

\---

After that nights became something else entirely. By day they knocked on doors and went about their business, but the nights were solely for the two of them. The barrier between them had broken. Even when they were invited over to other ward member’s houses for dinner, they couldn’t stop exchanging knowing looks.

At one point, Kenny felt a slight nudge under the table and when he looked up to see Butters trying to hide a smile, Kenny nudged his foot back. They communicated like that for a while until the ward member asked Kenny a question and he had to snap back to reality.

Every time Butters prayed, he asked for the same thing: the courage to Choose the Right. One day in late February it began to snow, and they opted to go home early before the traffic became too bad and the buses might stop running.

Once out of their missionary clothing, Butters curled up next to Kenny on the couch and tried desperately to read the book Token had gotten him—something about some rich kids looking for a dead Welsh king. Butters had his legs tucked up under him as he leaned heavily on Kenny who was sitting normally, the latest Deadpool comic in his hands, also thanks to Token. Quite without realizing it, Kenny rested his head on top of Butters’ and idly rubbed his cheek against the soft blond strands.

Butters shuddered next to him and let out a sigh. He closed his book and took a deep breath. His head moved in the process and Kenny had to pull back as his comfortable position was ruined. Suddenly Butters began muttering to himself and Kenny could just make out the words.

_Give me the courage to Choose the Right. Give me the courage to Choose the Right._

Kenny set down his comic. “Why do you keep saying that?” he asked.

Butters closed his eyes. “Because I don’t know what right is anymore. And I want Heavenly Father to show me.”

“What, like give you a sign?”

When Butters opened his eyes, they were full of a longing that physically hurt to look at. Kenny wanted so badly to look away, but he was trapped in a sea of aquamarine. “We read all about signs in the Bible and the Book of Mormon but now that there’s a real prophet among us again, shouldn’t we be seeing more of them? I pray about this every night before bed and Heavenly Father remains silent. I’m not even sure I hear that still, small voice anymore. Or if I am, maybe I’m drowning it out.”

“Leo…” Kenny began, swallowing back a lump in his throat. “Every time I ask what it is you want, you change the subject. Just tell me. You know I won’t judge you at all, dude.”

Butters opened his mouth to say something, then thought the better of it and closed it again. In a few seconds he repeated the action until he grabbed his book, unhooked his legs, and stood up. “I’m not ready,” he said finally. “I’m going to go read in my room.” Then he disappeared into his room and Kenny was left with a wall of silence.

Kenny sat back and slid a hand down his face in frustration. He needed to let Butters come into this on his own time, no matter how much he tried to push it. But damn, Butters wasn’t making it easy at all. They were closer than ever, but there was still this unknown barrier between them that felt as thick as cowhide but as strong as steel. How could Kenny shatter a lifetime of conservative upbringing in just two months? And even now, just in a few days?

With the snow gently falling outside, Kenny decided it was the perfect afternoon for a nap so he dog-eared his comic and went to his own room to collapse on his bed. His head swam with thoughts of Butters and the way his hair felt against his cheek. He thought of Butters placing his head on his chest and looking so comfortable he might have fallen asleep if they stayed there any longer. He thought all the way back to when Butters first held his hand in the Bishop’s office, declaring them as mission partners and friends. He thought of the way Butters looked wounded after seeing Stan interact so closely with Kyle.

This was the future. In this kind of world, Kenny wouldn’t have to dance around these kinds of feelings. He could be ten times more forward. But this conservative lifestyle set everything back two decades and now there was the disconcerting feeling of being found out. Watched. Judged.

Kenny drifted off into a troubled sleep. In it, he dreamt of Tweek serving him coffee in an apron with the Tweak Bros logo on it. Butters was there, but he was also somewhere far away. Every time Kenny took a sip of the coffee, Butters’ frame became more in focus and he grew closer. By the time Kenny finished the cup, Butters was in front of him, sitting in the booth across from him. He smiled and Tweek offered him coffee and the dream dissolved into Kenny falling into crevasse so vast and lonely that when he woke up, he had to remember where he was and that this world contained light.

Just as he was stretching and making his way across the room to check the time, he heard a light rap on his door.

“It’s open,” he called, a hand running through his hair to even out the bedhead.

Butters let himself into the room. He had a determined look on his face but when he saw Kenny, his features softened. “Did I wake you up?”

“Nah, I just woke up,” Kenny said, waving him off. He wasn’t about to deny Butters anything though he was still trying to make sense of what was going on. He rubbed his eyes. “What’s up?”

Butters blanked for a second, then snapped back with a light, “Oh!” and he took a large step in Kenny’s direction. “I’m ready.”

“To….?”

“To tell you what I want.”

Kenny’s face broke into a grin. “Yeah? And what’s that?”

Butters hesitated for a fraction of a second, but then regained his resolve quickly. “You said you wouldn’t judge. You promised.”

Kenny held up his hands. “This is a judge-free zone,” he said with a chuckle.

“Good.” And then, before Kenny could even react, Butters closed the distance between them, his hands coming upwards to Kenny’s face so that he could guide him to his mouth. The kiss was short and chaste and probably mirrored something one would give to a relative, but it was their kiss and it was from Butters and if Butters hadn’t pulled away so quickly, Kenny would have wrapped his arms around the other boy and kept him there for more.

“Damn, Leo,” Kenny breathed.

“So that’s it,” Butters said. His voice sounded strangled, like he wasn’t getting enough air, and his face was so red Kenny was afraid he might collapse. “I think I Chose the Right.”

Kenny took one of Butters’ hands in his own to keep the blond from trying to run away back to his room because he looked like he was on the verge of a fight or flight response. “Did Heavenly Father give you a sign?”

Butters bit his bottom lip. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

“I swear it.”

“I heard the still, small voice. And it said, ‘He needs you.’ And that was it. I answered.”

Kenny laughed anyway and Butters looked mortified. With a shake of his head Kenny tugged the other boy to him and kissed the top of his head in response to the kiss from before. He didn’t even hesitate. And when Butters didn’t pull away, Kenny kept him there, breathing him in and finally allowing his chest to contract in all the excited ways it wanted to for so long. “It’s funny because I always thought it was you who needed me.”

 

“Heavenly Father brought us together for a reason,” Butters said into Kenny’s neck. He sighed, his breath tickling Kenny’s skin. Kenny closed his eyes and concentrated on Butters’ breathing. A part of him still couldn’t believe this was happening—and so quickly. “But the rest of the church won’t see it the way we do.”

“No,” Kenny said sadly. “They won’t.”

Butters pulled back, his eyes wet. “So what do we do?”

Kenny frowned and reached a hand up to stroke a careful thumb across Butters’ cheek. Now that he could, all he wanted to do was touch Butters every waking moment. He was still processing the kiss and the admission. The shock probably wouldn’t wear off for a long time. Even now, Kenny wondered if he ever really woke up from his nap. “We keep it a secret for now. That’s all we can do.”

“And when we have to go home?”

“Remember what I said at Tweek’s house? About living in the present?”

“Yeah….”

“That’s what we do. If we think about leaving, we’ll be miserable.”

“I reckon that’s the best thing to do…”

“And Butters?”

“Yeah?”

“Do I get butt-touching rights?”

“Oh jeez! Oh man! That was my first kiss, you know!”

“Awwww, I’m glad it was me. Can I be your second kiss, too?”

“Well, well, I guess so. That makes sense.”

And so Kenny kissed Butters again, only this time he made sure to linger a little longer, mouth moving slightly against Butters’ lips until Butters made a soft squeak and Kenny pulled back slightly—just enough to smile against Butters’ mouth. Butters seemed frozen, his lips slightly puckered, unaware of what to do. But he was willing to try, and that was far more than Kenny could have ever hoped for.


End file.
